Arrows to Bullets
by xPoppyx
Summary: Knowing multiple languages has always come in handy, but this time it's knowing just one language that lands the boys with a new friend. One particular blue eyed multi-linguist finds this new friend quite interesting.
1. Parlez Vous Francais?

**A/N I just saw The Boondock Saints one and two for the first time not but a few days go. The other night I had a dream. My dream became this fanfiction. This fanfiction became my new project. I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to correct me on anything and everything I do wrong. I will (attempt) to correctly use foreign languages. Please let me know if I do something wrong. Also know that though I find accents sexy, I will go in and out of typing them out. It does take energy to remember to change words around. Now at one point in this chapter there is a bit of French. Once I get past the initial stuff, I'm writing in English, just pretend it's French, please and thank you.**

**I don't own any of the Boondock Characters, however I do own Yvette Devereux. This is the only time I will disclaim, let it be known that the disclaimer holds over the entire story. Thank you.**

**The beginning takes place five years after Boondock Saints.**

**Chapter**** One: Parlez-Vous Français?**

A young woman walked down a little dirt road in Ireland during midsummer. Night was falling and after a long day the pack on her back was weighing down her shoulders viciously. Looking about her she tried to find a decent place to lay out her bedroll for the night. That's when she saw salvation. Set a few acres of land away from her little dirt road was a nice little cottage. Perhaps they would be kind enough to lend her a roof for the night. With the hope of them being nice to a weary traveler, the young woman turned onto an even smaller dirt path and headed towards the cottage. As she walked she pulled out a small notebook from her pocket. She flipped through page after page. The booklet was filled with foreign phrases and how to say one particular word in every European language. Finding the word she needed she breathed it over and over. She found Gaelic hard to pronounce and hoped she didn't butcher it too much. When she got to the door she gave a polite little knock. Again she whispered the word to herself.

The door swung open. Before her was a large man with curly grey-white hair and a snowy beard. He gave her a questioning look and asked her something she didn't understand.

Clearing her throat she stuttered out the word, "Fr-Franca-cach?" Giving a little cough she said it again, "Francach?" The word was "French" and that was all she spoke.

The man shook his head, but motioned for her to stay put. Turning to the inside he called out, "Murphy! Connor!"

The woman heard the screeching of chairs and thudding of boots. Two younger men came to the door. She was instantly reminded of the Savior Jesus Christ at their appearances. They had long, shaggy brown hair and beards. The elderly man looked to them and said something she could only guess meant 'she speaks French and I don't.' The boys said something back she could only surmise meant 'we've got this.' As they had their little conversation, the young lady found her only way to determine the boys apart. One had blue eyes, and the other had hazel.

Hazel Eyes gave her a smile, "Qu'est-ce que vous avez besoin, Mademoiselle?" He politely asked what she needed.

She returned the smile, "Je m'appelle Yvette Devereux. Je voyage a travers l'Europe et seulement besoin d'un endroit pour rester pour la nuit. S'il vous plait?" She just wanted a place to stay for the night as she back-packed through Europe.

Blue Eyes nodded, "Oui." She could stay.

Yvette smiled and stepped into the house thanking them, "Merci beaucoup messieurs."

Elderly nodded at her and said something that his sons translated. "He says you're welcome to stay a few nights if you want."

Hazel Eyes held out his hand, "Name is Connor, this is my brother Murphy, and our da, Noah."

Yvette shook his offered hand, then Murphy's, followed up by Noah's, "Pleasure. Thanks again for letting me stay. I promise I won't be a bother. Now…can I use your shower? It has been a few days."

"Aye, follow me. It's out in the barn, but the water is warm."

"A shower is a shower, I wouldn't care if it was in the middle of the house."

He gave a laugh and pulled open the barn door, "Here we are." He pointed to the end, "Just pull the lever. There is some shampoo and soap on that shelf."

"Thank you." She tossed down her pack and opened the zipper. Fishing through it she pulled out a pair of jeans, a pair of underwear, a spare bra, and a fresh tee shirt. Standing she folded them neatly and placed them on the shelf besides the soaps. Slowly she began peeling away the few layers she was wearing. First was the dark blue sweater, next the pale yellow tee. After kicking off her hiking boots she unbuttoned and slipped off her durable jeans. She balanced on one foot, then the other to take off her socks. Pulling her long ash blonde braid over her shoulder she took out the tie and loosened the braid. She shook her hair out behind her and unfastened her bra.

Murphy hadn't left the barn yet. He had started to watch her prepare and every five seconds he was mentally telling himself to leave and stop being a perv. But he just couldn't. When he had seen her at the door she was in bulky clothes that did nothing for the figure he was seeing now. She had defined legs, which he guessed were made that way by the traveling. Those very legs led up to a nicely shaped bottom, one he couldn't keep his eyes off of. Hey, he was only human and only a man. From her rump and lovely curved hips came a tapered waist. Her arms were well shaped, but not skinny. Muscle hid beneath the light olive skin that much he could tell. However it was when she hooked her thumbs into her panties that he finally kicked up his heels and left.

Yvette pulled the lever and stood beneath the rush of warm water. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed happily. It felt great. She pumped some shampoo into her hand and slowly began working it through her hair from roots to tips. Rinsing it out, she frowned. No conditioner. Ah well. She grabbed the bar of soap and started rubbing away the dirt and grime from the last few days. Though she loved to travel, she hated, no…she loathed not getting a shower every single day. Yet she could give up a daily shower for days upon days of just walking out in the open with no real destination except away and back again. France was the greatest place in the world to her, but everywhere else held some sort of wonder to her.

When she finished with her shower she pushed the lever back up, turning off the rush of water. There was a small stack of towels a few feet away. She grabbed one and dried off. She pulled on her underwear, fresh jeans, and a new bra. Sitting down on a little bench, she pulled her hair back over her shoulder and wrung it out. Digging through her bag she found a comb and started running it through her hair. When she was sure not a single knot was left, and only when she was absolutely sure did she started to braid her waist-length hair. That done she pulled on the new tee, a pale rose red shade. She pulled on a fresh pair of socks and put her boots back on. Standing she stuffed her dirty clothes into her pack. Now that she felt loads better, she headed back to the cottage. The sun had fully set.

Walking in through the back door she saw the three men playing cards at the table. She raised a hand, "Thank you, again."

Noah raised a brow. Turning to his sons he said, "Gleoite deas, sea?"

The boys nodded and chuckled.

Yvette gave the three a look and asked, "Quoi?"

Connor gave her a little nod and a smile, "Poppa here was just complementing you. He thinks you're pretty."

She blushed, "Merci. Um…Is there a room? Or a piece of floor? I'm fine with anything."

Murphy stood, "Follow me, we've got a spare room." He led her down a small hall and into a small room. There was only a small, one person bed, a bedside table, and an old oil lamp. He swept out an arm, "Here yah go. A nice little room all to yourself for your stay."

She smiled and gave a faux curtsey, "Thank you, kind sir."

As Murphy turned to leave he caught a glimpse of Yvette's pack. There was a keychain dangling off a strap. It was a horseshoe. He looked at her, "You ride?"

Yvette looked to him then to her pack. She smiled, "Oui. A friend of mine has a gorgeous stable. I keep my mare there."

"What breed?"

"Morgan."

"Color?"

"She's a chestnut, a blonder mane and tail."

"Age?"

"Why all the questions?" She plopped down onto the bed and took off her boots.

Murphy gave her a little smile, "Because I'm curious."

She sighed, "She'll be ten this December."

He was going to say something, but decided against it. Instead he just nodded, "Good night." He left her to sleep.

Yvette looked after him as he walked away with a curious look. Shrugging, she laid out on the small bed and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

**A/N Thanks for any and all who have read this first chapter. **

** I'd like to dedicate this chapter to by best friend who helped be decide a few points and ideas for later on. I love my darling Katy **


	2. Rain, Rain Go Away

** A/N An so we continue…Also, if I don't justify the language, just assume it's English or Gaelic. Obviously when Yvette is speaking to/with the guys the language of choice is French. Oh and please remember, I'm American and though I know and perfectly understand the metric system, it's more natural to work in our weird ways.**

** Chapter Two: Rain, Rain Go Away**

Murphy woke up just as he did every morning, at precisely six-thirty in the morning. Sitting up and running his hands through his hair he looked across the room to where Connor was sleeping. Grabbing his pillow he hurled it as hard as possible, "Wake up ye bastard!" Looking out the window he saw a grey sky.

Connor groaned, "Shut he fuck up Murph…" He sat up and rubbed his face, "Ye're an ass…I was sleepin'…" Getting out of bed Connor heard something. Someone was up and moving around. He shushed Murphy, "Do ye hear that?"

Getting out of bed, Murphy listened. He nodded, "Yeah. Sounds like Poppa is up." Suddenly he realized something. "But Da never gets up this early. He likes ta sleep in." He raised a brow at his brother.

"Perhaps it's that girl. Yvette right?"

"Yeah."

They looked at each other for a grand total of three seconds before charging out of their room. Murphy shoved Connor into the wall to get a step ahead. Connor retaliated by getting a handful of Murphy's hair and pulling his brother back. Either way, they both stumbled into the kitchen area at about the same time to find Yvette with a curious brow raised.

"Bon matin."

"Mornin'."

"Yeah, mornin'."

She smirked, "Do you always fight to get to the kitchen first?"

Murphy smirked, "Maybe."

She just shook her head with a smirk, "So, thank you again for letting me stay for the night. I'll be out of your hair in an hour or so."

Connor nodded, "Yeah, no problem."

The guys sat down at the table and yawned.

She chuckled, "What? To early for you two? Poor things, I've been up for an hour."

"Can you share some energy?" Murphy asked with a smile.

She snorted, "No. If I give any away, how am I going to make it through the day?"

"Selfish."  
>"Yes, actually, I am at times." She pulled her braid over her shoulder, "Now I took the liberty of brewing a pot of coffee so at least you boys would have something in the morning."<p>

Conner held a hand over his heart, "Ah, I'm in love. Do you have to go back?"

Yvette rolled her eyes, "Yes I have to. Now here," she placed a mug before each of them, "have a mug. I'll be off soon enough. I was just going to ask if I could take a bit food or something. Feel free to say no."

"'Course you can. Could we say no after housing you for a night?"

"You could. I would be impolite, but you could."

Connor looked at Murphy, then to Yvette, then back to Murphy, "She's a smartass."

Murphy, who was looking at Yvette, answered his brother, "Yeah she is."

It was just as Yvette was about to say a smart remark that the thunder began to roll. She grimaced, "Merde!" She cursed to herself and went to the window in time to watch the bottom drop out of the sky and rain begin to come down from the heavens. She punched the wall. Grumbling she turned to the boys, "I can't leave now. I can't travel in this weather, I'll get sick."

"Obviously you stay here then, until the rain stops."

She looked out the window and into the sky, "Damn it…" She nodded, "Fine, I'll stay until the rain stops, but I'll at least help out or something. I don't want to be a free-loader."

Connor and Murphy looked at each other and shared a conversation she couldn't even get the jist of. They went back and forth for a few good minutes. Finally, Murphy turned to her, "If you don't want to be a free-loader, then how about you help up with the sheep. All you have to do is ride around with us and make sure none of the sheep wander and keep predators away. Can you handle that much?"

Yvette smiled, "I think I can handle that just fine."

The twins downed their coffee and stood, "Then let's get ready for a day of work." They walked back into their room.

Yvette sauntered back to the spare room where she pulled on her boots and sweater. She pulled her hair out of the loose braid and started a French braid. When she finished, her braid had shortened by a few good inches. Standing she pulled the tail of her braid over her shoulder and stepped back out into the small hall. When she reentered the small kitchen area the boys were ready and waiting for her.

Murphy held out a worn leather jacket similar to one they both wore, "Here. Keeps out the rain as well as the sweaters keep out the cold."

"Merci." She pulled on the jacket and buttoned up the front. Giving them a smile she said, "Alright then, let's get going." She clapped her hand together in anticipation.

Connor led the way out to the barn in the rain. It was more than a drizzle, less than a downpour, but not quite flat out rain. It was something in between. Turning to Yvette he said, "Murphy told me you ride and that you've got a Morgan."

"Oui. I have all my life. An American show of Morgans had come to travel Europe. I forsook studying one weekend while I was in college and went. There was a little man who spoke the worst French I'd ever heard there. He was selling some yearlings and promised their blood was good. I couldn't help myself. I walked amongst the four or five young mares he had. There was this sweet girl with pretty blonde mane and tail. She approached me herself and stared. Well how could I say no to a bold little thing like her? I bought her from the man and took her to my friend's place. Her father owned the stables she now owns. Anyway, I rented out a stall and spent every spare second of my time with my Bibiane. She's a feisty thing and tends to be very playful. My friend, Aure, watches her when I go on my treks."

Connor rolled his eyes half way through and stopped listening. Yvette had just defined one reason why he had never settled down. If you ask a woman, any woman no matter her race or age, about something they will tell you their life story. Hell, all he wanted to know was a simple 'yes I ride' and 'yes I own a Morgan.' Murphy on the other hand heard every word. He thought it was interesting and wanted to know more.

"Bibiane…Why do I know that name? I swear I've heard it before."

She smiled, "Bibiane means 'lively' and it fits her very well."

Murphy snapped his fingers, "Yes! That's it." He beckoned me to follow him to the tack room, "Grab that saddle there with the reigns and go to the third stall on the left. His name is Karman. He's Da's horse, but you can ride him. He's friendly, but the quiet type. If you need to get somewhere he's got the get-up-and-go."

Nodding she took what she needed and skedaddled down to the aforementioned stall. As she approached the stall she clicked her tongue and said, "Karman." Over the hip-high door came the large head of a blue roan Irish Sport Horse. She smiled and sat down the saddle. Holding out a flat hand she waited for him to accept her presence. Karman sniffed her hand and blew a big breath on it. Yvette smiled and stroked his nose, "You're a handsome man, Karman, a very handsome man." She opened the door and stepped inside. She was glad the, as she could tell, stallion took the saddle and reigns easily. Her Bibiane had always loathed being outfitted, but she did love the ride.

Once she had Karman set up she led him out of the barn. There she met Murphy and Connor, both standing beside their steeds. Yvette smiled at them, "Shall we?" Grabbing the saddle and hooking her foot into the stirrup she hoisted herself onto Karman's back.

The boys hopped up and nodded. Connor led the way through the rain as Yvette and Murphy hung back and talked.

"So when did you start this traveling?"

Yvette thought a moment, "A year or two after I finished college. You see during college I spent the summer with a bunch of friends traveling. I had so much fun. After I graduated I started working in the school system. I don't work summers. A few summers back I decided to go back to traveling. No one else could go, so I took off on my lonesome. This is my first time going through Ireland. Last year I went to England and turned back, the year before I spent most of my time going east. I've picked up bits and pieces of other languages, but I won't lie, I don't have the talent to pick up other languages."

Murphy shrugged, "It's not hard. I admit it's better to learn when you're young. Our mother insisted we learn more. She always said we'd need it, and we have before. Right Connor?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Yvette raised a brow, "What's his problem?"

"Girls talk too much."

Murphy glared at the back of his brother's head, "Shut up ass."

She shook her head and turned to Murphy, "It's fine. It's the guys who actually ask the questions that make the cut with girls. I'll bet you serious money he never gets married."

"What Connor? Nah, he swore off settling down a long time ago."

"Then I win the bet. Pay up."

"We never bet anything!"

She smirked, "Fine, but I still won the bet." Seeing the herd of sheep ahead she spurred Karman into a trot. She smiled back at the guys.

Connor looked to Murphy, "And you convinced me to bring her out why?"

Murphy wasn't looking at Connor. He was staring at Yvette's back. He wasn't even listening. Blinking he looked to Connor, "Whaddya say?"

"I asked why you talked me into lettin' her come out with us. She coulda stayed at the house an' en'ertained Poppa for a while, made breakfast, done something other than get in my hair."

Murphy narrowed his eyes at Connor, "She claimed to ride, I wanted to see if she really could."

His brother scoffed, "If ye wanted ta see if she could ride, ye coulda flirted with her until the horse wasn't needed."

Seeing as how they were riding side by side, Murphy reached over and punched Conner in the arm, "Shut it!"

The two started trading a few hits atop their horses. Meanwhile Yvette looked on very confused, but just let it be to "brothers will be brothers."

**Later that day…**

The rain had let up, but it was too late in the day for Yvette to get going. Instead she and Murphy stayed out with the herd as Connor went in. They rode around them slowly as they chatted.

"You told me you and Connor know a lot of languages. Which ones, if I may ask?"

Murphy smiled at her, "Well obviously we speak French, born into Gaelic, and other than those we speak Spanish, Italian, Russian, German, and English."

She chuckled, "Wow, I'm impressed."

"Are yah?"

Yvette gave him a sideways glance, "Don't flatter yourself. I just meant that I'm impressed you're multi-lingual. You as a person don't impress me, Murphy MacManus." She gave him a little smirk and spurred Karman into a canter.

"Hey!" Murphy chased spurred his own steed on after her. "Yvette! Wait!"

She reigned Karman to a stop and looked at him, "Can I help you?"

He stared at her, "You're a very odd person, Yvette Devereux."

"And you are a very good person, Murphy MacManus."

He held out a hand for her to shake, "Well Odd Yvette, I will say I am glad I know French."

She smiled and shook his hand, "I'm glad you do speak French, Good Murphy."

The two smiled at each other for a while.

**A/N Thank you to tall who have read the first and now second chapter and to all those who reviewed **** This chapter I dedicate to my beloved mother Mama. She always says I've got a decent mind for writing and thinks fanfiction really helps me hone those skills. Love you Mama Dear **


	3. Reminded

**A/N And now for chapter three. Thank you to all who have read thus far. Your reviews and constructive criticism is much loved.**

**Chapter Three: Reminded**

Yvette laid awake in her given bed. Sleep would not come to her. She blamed it on the weather. Ever since she was a young child she couldn't sleep when it was storming, and boy was it storming. During the day it had let up, but it seemed God had more than a drizzle in store. A torrential downpour was in affect. She listened as the rain beat against her small window. She couldn't sleep in storms not because she hated them, but because she loved them. The sound of the howling wind and the rain playing the drums against the tinkling windows kept her awake. She refused to sleep when such beautiful sounds assailed her ears. That…and the noise was so loud in the little cottage that sleeping through it seemed downright impossible. Sighing and giving up she got out of bed. She pulled on a sweater to knock away a chill that began to creep into her bones once the blanket left her skin. Out into the hall she walked and straight to the small kitchen. She had it in her mind for a nice cup of coffee or perhaps hot cocoa if they had it. When she got to the kitchen she found Murphy sitting at the neat little table with a mug of something before him. He was shirtless and in unfastened jeans. She was reminded against of her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ at his looks. It was then she saw the tattoos. Of course she had already seen the word on his right hand. She was sure it was Latin or Italian by the spelling. On his chest was a tattoo of what looked like a name, but she couldn't tell at first glance. On his right arm was a Celtic cross. She decided to take a second look at the one on his chest. What the hell did it say? It was bothering her that she couldn't tell.

"It says 'Norman' if you couldn't tell."

She was snapped out of her little trance. "Huh?"

"Norman was a good friend of mine. I knew him all my life. When we first went to America I got a call from his girlfriend. He got in a crash or something. Connor is a brother by blood; Norman was a brother by soul."

"How poetic." She sat down across from him with a little smirk.

"You making fun of a dead friend?"

She smiled and shook her head, "No, just never thought something that sounded like Shakespeare wrote it would come from a farm boy." She looked into the mug. It was a dark liquid. "What's that?"

"Coffee, and a bit of whiskey to boot. Couldn't sleep. What are you doing up?"

Yvette stood and went to the pot where she poured her own mugs worth, "I don't sleep when it storms. I listen to the music of God's fury."

"And you called me poetic."

After sitting down she gave a leg of his chair a kick, "Shut it." Looking at his right hand she asked, "What does 'Ae-aequi-tas' mean?" She butchered the pronunciation.

Murphy laughed at her, "'Aequitas,' as it is properly said, means justice in Latin. Connor has 'veritas' meaning truth."

"So…truthful justice?"

"You could say that."

She took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. It was too strong for her liking. She knew it was stereotypical, but she liked cream and sugar in her coffee like every other 'Frenchie.' Knowing they may or may not have anything, she bore down and drank it like a man. Reaching across the table she took his right hand in her left and pulled it towards her to examine the cross. "It's beautiful. Where did you get it?"

"Well this one and the Latin were done by some bloke. This one," he turned his head to the right and pulled the hair away to reveal the tattoo of the Virgin Mary on his neck, "this one Connor did. He's got one, same spot, that I did."

"Wow, you speak almost every major European language _and _you guys are tattoo artists. Now I'm even more impressed."

He chuckled, "Yeah. I had 'Norman' done professionally. Then there's this little fellow." He showed her his right bicep. There was what looked like a flying demon there. "Did that when I got bored one day."

"Any others? Or is that the lot of them?"

He stood, "Nope. One more. Again, this one was Connor. He's got a similar one." He turned around to reveal the bottom half of the Crucifix on his back.

Her eyes widened, "Merde. That must have taken ages! And what do you mean he's got a similar one?"

"Oh he's got the top of the Crucifix. If you get to see him without a shirt you'll see it."

Yvette wasn't going to lie, if Murphy had a decent…well…more than decent…body, wouldn't Connor have the same? However…she didn't really like Connor. He was a nice guy and funny as hell, but he was a little too rude for her taste.

Sitting back down Murphy asked, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Moi? Non. My flesh is clean and unmarred, save a scar or two." She gave him a wry look, "Perhaps you could give me my first. I've always wanted one. Maman and Papa had never thought of them as tasteful, but I do think if it's for the right reason then a tattoo is just fine."

Connor's flirting comment from early suddenly passed through Murphy's mind. Even if he didn't get to have a go with Yvette, doesn't mean he couldn't see if he could make her blush. He smirked, "Oh I'd love to take your tattoo virginity."

Yvette raised a brow, "Well I've seen your work, it's good, and how much fun will it be to go home and tell dear Maman and Papa their darling Yvette did a very bad thing with a scruffy Irishman she hardly knew." She drew a finger along the word on his hand. "I've always wanted a bit of my innocence to be taken by skilled and practiced hands."

_So the girl plays too. We'll see who gives first._ "Oh if you really want it, I promise not to be to rough. Nice and easy for your first time."

She playfully gasped, "What makes you think I need you to be soft with me?" She narrowed her eyes slightly, "Maybe I like it rough."

He raised a brow, "Well if you insist, but if it starts to hurt I ain't stopping until I'm done and we're both satisfied."

Tilting her head a bit Yvette came back with, "So where and when can we do this seeing as how we're being oh so serious."

"Right fucking now if you're up for it and right here on the table. I wanna do things to your skin you've never had done before."

Yvette stood and held her arms out, "Well that's settled. Now we just need to choose where you can begin."

He stood, "Let me get my things. No need for me to seem unprepared, that would just be embarrassing." He went down the hall, into the room, and came back out in a matter of seconds. He found Yvette sitting on the table. She had removed her sweater and had one leg crossed neatly over the other at the knee. He could tell she was probably a little cold…oh he could tell…Coming up to her side he asked, "Where at and what?" He pulled a small notepad out of the little bag of tricks he had along with a pencil.

She smiled, "I've wanted to get this ever since I got Bibiane. What I had in mind is a horseshoe with her name in the curve."

For about three minutes silence reigned as Murphy drew what she was thinking on a piece of paper. When he finished he showed it to her, "This you mean?" On the inside of the shoe was 'Bibiane' written in a pretty script.

She nodded, "Exactly that." Laying back on the table she pulled up her shirt slightly to reveal her lower abdomen. She tapped the front of her right hip, "Right here, please."

Murphy nodded, "Of course. The costumer is always to be pleased." He pulled out a little ink well and what looked like a writing pen. He looked at her, "Relax, don't tense up or move. I could mess up with you do."

Yvette nodded, "Wouldn't want you to mess up. I would think you were bad at this, and what virgin wants someone who can't do their job for their first time?"

He just laughed.

He began. The feeling was like when she went to the hospital for a shot; a little prick. It didn't hurt like people claimed. In fact she had to stifle a giggle on more than one occasion.

As he worked Yvette looked upon his visage. She couldn't help but ask, "Do you think Jesus tattooed people?"

He chuckled, "Oh aye, his name on every tit like those famous rock stars who sign girls' chests."

They shared a laugh.

As she laid there and looked at him she saw a nasty burn on his left arm. She gazed at it for what felt like an hour before getting the lady balls to ask, "What's the burn from?"

Murphy didn't answer at first. Her question sent him spiraling back to the day it happened. He, Connor, and Rocco (God rest his soul) had just offed these guys when a man attacked. There was a firefight. A bullet grazed his arm, but still left a grand reminder. It was when Yvette asked a second time that he answered, "Got into a bar fight. The pussy pulled a gun. I didn't have anything and it wasn't fair, the bastard. Shot at me, missed where he was aiming for, but got my arm. Connor and another friend were in the fight too. Friend lost a finger; Connor's right leg was grazed. He all said 'screw the hospital, they'll ask questions' so we went home and sealed up the wounds with an iron."

Yvette hissed as she sucked in a breath. Her arm, leg, and hand seemed to burn with the pain of what it would feel like to have an iron, white hot, pressed against her skin.

"You're reaction is right. It hurt like a fucking bitch."

"I think I would have just gone to the hospital and had them stitch me up."

"Oh you're a big baby."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh yes, I'm a big baby, wah wah wah."

They chuckled and fell into a comfortable silence as Murphy kept at his task. It didn't take him too long, only about two hours to diligent work with a coffee break once or twice. When he was finished he gave her a smile through the scruffy beard, "And there you go."

Yvette sat up and looked down. Standing she could get a better look at the work. She smiled at him, "So what do I owe you?"

He waved a hand, "First one's on the house. Next one you gotta pay up."

"You already owe me."

"Hey! I thought we agreed no money was ever put down on that bet." He grabbed a clean rag and dampened it in the sink. Lifting up her shirt he ran it across to wipe away all excess ink.

She hissed, "Ouch! It didn't hurt until you did that you bastard!"

Murphy smirked, "I knew you were a baby." He kissed his hand and pressed it hard into the tattoo, "Better?"

Yvette punched him in the arm, "Damn it you asshole! That hurt!"

He laughed at her. Of course he would never willingly harm a woman, it wasn't in his nature. However…he felt she slightly deserved it. He had gone so long without thinking about the Saints that her reminder had pissed him off a bit. She deserved the minute about of pain.

She looked out the window. The rain was still coming down hard. She sat back down and leaned back so as to not increase the slight prickling pain on her hip. Looking up at Murphy she asked, "When do you think the rain will pass?"

Sitting down he shrugged, "Don't know. Sometimes it just goes and goes for day followed by two or three months of no rain. Sometimes it rains a day or two, the sun shines a day or two, then it rains again. You could be stranded here until three mornings from now, or until the sun rises. It all depends."

Yvette frowned, "As much as I like chatting with you, I've got more of Europe to see and my Bibiane and family to get back to. I hope the rain stops soon…"

Murphy looked across the table at the woman. Yvette with her long ash blonde hair and daring brown eyes accompanied by her tanned skin was a beauty. There was a phrase that passed through his mind but never left his lips. _I hope it never stops…_

**A/N Murphy, Murphy, Murphy how could you want to keep her from her beloved France? Tsk tsk tsk you randy boy you! Now this chapter is dedicated to my cat. Yes, I am a crazy cat lady in training :P My darling Sammy was crawling in and out of my lap begging for attention from about twelve-thirty in the morning until he fell asleep around two. In that time I was writing this. He keeps me company and always gives me a cuddle when I'm blocked. Good boy Sammy **


	4. Proper Payment

**A/N Chapter four! I am really on a roll for writing right now. I feel good :D **

**Chapter Four: Proper Payment**

**Two Days Later**

The rain had finally let up the beginning of the fourth night of Yvette's stay at the MacManus cottage. She was sitting outside looking into the field in front of the abode. A sigh of comfort and relief left her lips as she looked out across the peaceful field. The sun was beginning to set and the boys would be back soon. She had decided not to join them and instead spent the day with Noah. They did a spot of cleaning and enjoyed the silence. How could they not? Neither spoke the other's language! When vocalization was needed hand gestures and Yvette's pages of foreign languages were used. It had worked…most of the time. Now Noah was making dinner and she sat on the front porch with her little camera in hand. Holding it up, she snapped a picture of the setting sun the light bouncing off the still wet field. It was a gorgeous sunset and the way it hit the land took her breath away. She knew the picture wouldn't do proper justice…_Aequitas…_to the real scene. Looking at the image on the screen of her digital camera she nodded. Good enough. She planned on printing it out and putting it on her Wall.

"A sight like that would look good on a post card."

Yvette turned in surprise, "Oh, hey Murphy." She patted the seat beside her, "Care to join me?"

He plopped down with a heavy sigh, "Today was a big day. One of the little ones ran off so I had to chase it down. Took almost two hours, and the poor thing almost got killed."

She frowned, "Ewes just don't know how to raise their children these days. I tell you. Last year this awful little lamb walked into my class with absolutely no manners! Kept 'baa'ing and interrupting my class! I actually had to ask if he was raised on a farm. You can imagine my surprise when I was told in a very smug attitude that he had been raised in the suburbs around Paris. Smart ass lamb…"

Murphy laughed at her, "I bet his mother was very disappointed in him."

"You bet your sweet ass she was."

He raised a brow, "My ass is sweet?"

Yvette gave him a daring look, "Are you trying to turn a common phrase into the assumption that I stare at your bum and find it to my liking?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing."

She gave him a shove, "Don't flatter yourself. I've seen better asses on seventy-year-old men."

"See now you're just sick for staring at Da's ass."

That deserved him a well aimed punch to the arm.

As the sun continued to sink below the western horizon, Yvette undid her hair. It had been kept in a braid for so long it felt good to let it hang out. Now the braid had caused crimps in her hair giving it a wavy-curly look.

Murphy took a stab in the dark with his next comment. Over the last couple days, and especially after the tattoo, he and the French girl had spent about nineteen of every twenty-four hours in each day around each other. Those five hours given only to sleep. They had even stayed up way past their 'bed times' at the kitchen table talking. As it was, their conversations would drift from childhoods to mocking flirtations. Now that shot in the dark comment was, "You know, you look good with your hair down and all wavy like that."

Yvette looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "Are you saying I look bad when it's braided?"

"What? No, no, no! That's not what I meant! I was complime—"

"Shut up Murphy, I know what you meant. I enjoy getting a rise out of you."

He glowered at her for a second before a coy little smirk fell upon his lips, "Well, I'm not saying you're a choice pick when you've been riding all day and look a mess."

Another punch in the arm.

"I'd thank you kindly, monsieur, to not insult me on my last night here. That's just plain rude."

The two stared at each other for a moment before Murphy leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, and stared out across the field, "So the radio guy says it should be clear skies for the next two weeks. Good traveling weather. I suspect you'll be going tomorrow?"

Yvette nodded, "Yes…wait…don't move." She held up her camera. Despite her telling him not to move, he turned his head to look at her. His head was slightly cocked to the side and tilted down. Those blue eyes stared straight through the camera and into her brown eyes. It took all her strength to push down the tiny button that needed no more then a slightly tap. Once the picture was taken he looked away again. Now it was her turn for a shot in the dark move. Reaching over with a hand she turned his head to face her again. She looked at him for a few seconds. There was something in the unruly hair and beard that she liked. Was it because she was so used to the trimmed and metro sexual looking men she always tended to meet? Was it that the rugged look called to something in her that she couldn't refuse? Either way she gave a little smile and said, "I know you said the first one as free, but I still want to pay for the tattoo."

"I told you, you don't owe me a thi—"

Murphy was cut off by the lips of the young woman sitting beside him. He started kissing her back.

Inside the cottage Noah couldn't help but to have seen the two from the window. He didn't know whether to frown or smirk. So Murph was getting his kicks. Good or bad? He didn't care actually. He turned back to his cooking. However…the two did not go unnoticed by a pair of hazel eyes. Connor had liked Yvette. She was alright for a girl. She could hold her own and ride with the best of them, but then there was the fact that one reason why he never wanted to settle down was because of Murphy. The two had always been closer than close and more alike and unalike than any other set of twins he had ever met. Women, though nice for dating and having as friends, were dangerous in the long run. He didn't want to lose his brother to some doe eyed French girl. He had nothing against the French, no, but he had everything against strange women whisking the more romantic twin off his feet.

Noah looked at Connor and frowned, "Don't ye dare get in the way."

"But Poppa, what about when she leaves tomorrow? Eh? I'm not gunna deal with hes sorry ass if he misses a girl that he knew was gunna leave in the first place."

The grey-haired man wielded a kitchen knife at his son, "Now ye listen here, Murph has every right to fall balls-deep in love with a girl he ain't known more'n a few days. It teaches men a lesson about love. Ye love when ye can, who ye can, and may God bless ye enough ta let it be. If t'ain't such a feeling twixt those two then who gives a fuck what happens tomorrow? Let'em git their kicks. Answer me thes, Connor, when was the last time ye laid with a woman?"

"Is thes necessary?"

"Answer the fuckin' question."

"Fine! If I'm right, it's been about two years."

Noah raised a brow, "So don't you think, since you and Murph are so alike, that it's been just as long? A man can only hold it for so long. I should know. Twenty five years in prison all by mahself."

"How in the hell did we get on thes topic?"

"Ye know…I don't remember…"

Connor just shook his head and went to wash up for dinner.

Back outside…

Murphy pulled away from the kiss with a fire burning in his eyes. Ever since he had let himself watch her et ready for a shower a few days before he had wondered what she was like when saddled on something other than a horse. Perhaps…

Yvette wouldn't have it. She saw the look in his eyes. "Murphy, what good would it do?"

"Plenty good, really."

She gave his thigh a light smack, "No it wouldn't. I'm leaving tomorrow and I'm not a one-night-stand sort of girl. Anyway, after today I doubt we'll ever see each other again, so it really would be pointless."

_She's right…_He thought to himself with a frown. Instead he looked back at her, "Fine, but if that was for the tattoo, this is because I told you it was free." He kissed her. This time her arms found their way about his neck. After they had both pulled back from this kiss they sat on the bench in the dying sunlight. Yvette was nestled into his side while his arm was wrapped around her shoulders. For some reason she was mentally kicking herself for not accepting the earlier look in his eyes. In her mind there was a little Yvette yelling _Come one girl! When was the last time you kissed a guy like that! Let alone had sex! I mean really!_ And of course the little Yvette was right. It had been awhile…however she would stick true to her words. _Sex complicates simple things._

**The Next Morning: Just Before Dawn**

Yvette tiptoed out of the little room and down the hall into the kitchen in only socks. She was holding her boots so she wouldn't make a sound and wake any one who was sleeping. She paused when she saw Noah at the table. He was slowly turning a spoon in a mug. He motioned for her to sit down.

She sat down and pulled on her boots. When that was done she pulled out her little notebook and found the phrase 'thank you.' She felt it was too early to butcher a language so she just showed it to him.

Noah nodded and gave the table a little pat. He looked at her then nodded down the hall.

Yvette guessed he was silently asking about Murphy. She just sighed and shrugged. Standing she placed three folded pieces of paper on the table. Each had a name written on it. She slide Noah's to him. Inside was the phrase 'thank you for your hospitality' in Gaelic.

The man just smiled at her. He tapped the other two and nodded, letting her know he'd be sure they get them. He then nodded to the front door.

Yvette smiled and nodded. Shouldering her pack, she walked out the door.

As the door shut behind her Noah smirked, "And there she goes."

Just as the door clicked shut Murphy opened his eyes. No one had to tell him for him to know she was gone.

**A/N Chapter dedication time! This one goes to Phylicia aka Kool Aid. I was chatting with her via FB while typing this. It's good to know other people are crazy and away at four-thirty in the morning.**


	5. Home Again

**A/N And lo another chapter has burst forth from my mind. Yay.**

**Chapter Five: Home Again**

Connor and Murphy walked out into the kitchen where their father sat drinking his coffee. It had been about half an hour since Yvette left. Connor seemed rather awake that morning as he filled a mug and sat down. Murphy seemed to still be half asleep as if lost in a dream. As the two sat at the table Noah bid them good morning and handed them the folded notes Yvette had left.

"She left just before dawn, but she did thank us for our hospitality before she went. Nice girl." He leaned back and sipped his coffee as he watched his twin boys read their notes.

Connor opened the paper and read:

_Connor, I thank you for two things. First, thank you for being a translator between your father and me whenever it was needed. Language barriers are never fun to have to overcome. Second, I know you probably don't like me much, but at least you were a gentleman and not too obvious in your distaste of me. It was kind of you. I wish for only good things to come to your family. You were all very kind to me during my stay. Had the rain not come, I would have left sooner and been out of your hair faster. Again, my thanks and undying gratitude for a roof during the storm. _

_Sincerely, Yvette Devereux_

He pocketed the note. Yeah, as a person she was alright and polite when not being a smartass, but when she distracted his brother is when he didn't like her. Now she was gone and they wouldn't see the likes of her again, of that he was sure. Life goes on.

Murphy was staring at the letter. His read:

_Murphy, you were the kindest to me. I only wish we shared a country so that the friendship we created could continue on. However, I am stubborn and refuse to lose touch with you. Below is the address to my home in France. Please, do not hesitate to write. If you ever find yourself in my country, know that I want to return the favor of a warm shelter and you or your family will always have a room here. As it stands, for everyone I have met on my travels, you have left the biggest impression. I also lied, you, Murphy MacManus, do impress me as a person. Thank you for everything (including my new tattoo) and I wish you well in life._

_Sincerely yours, Yvette Devereux. _

_P.S. You're a rather good kisser I must say, and your beard tickled._

He gave a little grin at her last line. Folding up the letter he tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat. "Come on Connor, we've got work ta do." Standing he downed the coffee and left for the barn.

Connor raised a brow, "What do yew suppose was in hes letter? All she did was thank me. Yew?"

"The same. She thanked me for our hospitality." Noah smirked and shook his head, "I'm sure the girl thanked him for much more."

"Oh aye." Connor stood and finished his coffee. He snorted, "She probably told him to shave. Those Frenchie types hate shit like that." He followed his brother out for a day of work.

**Month and a Half Later**

Yvette stepped into her little rustic home. Finally she was home. Her friend, Aure, was sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of tea before her.

"You're home!" The petite brunette hopped up to hug her friend. Getting a smell of Yvette, Aure crinkled her nose in distaste, "You smell awful."  
>"I haven't showered in three days." She dropped her pack. "I'm gunna go shower and get fresh clothes on. Anything important come in the mail?"<p>

"Aside from bills? I took care of those with your accounts."  
>"Thanks!" Yvette called from her bedroom.<p>

"Welcome! Also, you got a few letters!"

Yvette's head popped out of the door, "From who?"

Aure picked up the stack, "Your Maman, two from your Mami(grandma), one from your Papa, some from other friends. Do you not use that computer you bought three years ago? Or what? There is a thing called e-mail."

Yvette gave a sniffed and grabbed the letters, "I like handwritten. It's more personal."

She flipped through the envelopes wondering if she had one from Murphy. She frowned. There wasn't one.

"What's wrong Têtue?" Aure asked. (Tetue is a French nickname meaning Stubborn)

"I was hoping I would have a letter from a friend. I don't…"

Aure went and riffled through the Junk Mail bin she made. "Well, there was this one letter, but I thought it might have been junk or spam. It came from Ireland."

"Give it!"

Holding the letter just out of reach for Yvette, who was hiding naked behind her door, Aure smirked, "Oh, is it really important? Let's see what it says."

Yvette growled, "Give me the letter, Moineau!" She had always called Aure 'sparrow' as for the small woman's stature.

The brunette opened the letter carefully, "Well let's see what this," she looked at the front, "Murphy MacManus has to say." She pulled out the folded sheet of paper.

"I swear to God if you don't give me that letter!"

Aure smirked, "What? Did you have a little one night stand with some Irish hunk? Oh you are a dastardly little thing!" Opening the letter she began to read aloud: "Dear Yvette, Oh how I miss you! The image of you writhing in pleasure beneath me is still imprinted on my mind! Each night I have dreamt a similar scene and always your naked form brings me to— MON DIEU!"

Yvette had pulled on a bathrobe and tackled her friend. She grabbed the letter and glared at Aure, "Firstly, I know you're lying because we didn't sleep together! Secondly, Murphy, had he said that, would have been more poetic, not perverted."

Aure giggled furiously, "You should have seen the look on your face! It was priceless!" Getting serious she asked, "So who is this Murphy fellow?"

Yvette rolled her eyes, "I'll tell you after I shower."

"Ugh, fine."

The blonde went back into her room and made her way to the bathroom. There she enjoyed a long, hot, refreshing shower. When finished she stepped out and stood naked in front of the full length mirror she had on the back over her bathroom door. She drew her finger along the curve of the horseshoe inked on her skin. She smiled softly as she rubbed herself dry with a fluffy towel. Pulling on a soft robe and grabbing a comb for her hair she walked into her bedroom. She sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed with the letter in her hand. And so she read:

_Dear Yvette, I admit I had a little laugh about your comment on my beard. I also felt a little better at knowing I could still talk to you in some way, so thank you for giving me the means to. You are a trouble maker though. Karman is giving Da shit. That stallion seems to like the little filly he met. I personally think he just prefers your smaller size to Da's. You know, weight wise. _(Yvette chuckled and shook her head thinking _I knew I liked that horse for a reason_) _If you're wondering, the sheep are doing fine. Remember that one little lamb I told you about? Well, it seems he's the trouble maker of the lot. Keeps prancing off the little fuck. I'm contemplating lamb chops as dinner because of that little prick. _(Now she let out a hearty laugh) _So how are you? I can only assume this letter will get to France before you, or at least your home. I hope all is well. Show Bibiane your new ink, she may find it much to her liking. I'm finding that I miss you._

_Sincerely yours, Murphy MacManus_

_P.S. Promise me if you get another tattoo, you always keep it personal._

_P.P.S. I'm still smug that I took your skin's virginity._

Yvette chuckled happily. Getting up she went to her bedside table. Opening the little drawer, she folded the letter and set it inside. Walking to her armoire she pulled out a pair of pants and a fitted tank top. After getting dressed she stepped back out into the hall and back towards the small dining room.

Aure was waiting for her. She smirked at her blonde friend, "So who is he?"

Sitting across from her life long friend, Yvette accepted a little cup of tea, "His name, as you know, is Murphy MacManus. I was walking down a dirt road in Ireland around sundown. I looked about for a nice spot to sleep and luckily I spotted this quaint little cottage. Taking a small path I asked for a night or two's stay. They welcomed me. However, it started raining. You know I won't travel in the rain. Well, I was stuck there for, let me see," she counted on her fingers. The first night, the next day, two more nights, then the last night before she left, "Three whole days, two mini days, and four nights. Well, while I was stuck there Murphy and I became good friends. Connor, his brother, and I were alright. We rubbed wrong a couple times, but he's not a bad guy. Fucking hilarious most of the time."

"Wait, so how was it you could be so friendly?"

Yvette took a good mouthful of the tea. Sighing in relief she smirked, "Connor and Murphy speak," again counting on her fingers, "seven languages, including French. It's beautiful too, they speak it very well. Their Papa, Noah, only speaks Gaelic and I'm sure I heard English." She swirled a finger in her tea. "Anyway…I think it all really started the second night I was there. It was storming and you know how I am."

Aure nodded.

"Well, I went out into the main room for coffee or tea or something of the sort. Murphy was sitting there. He was shirtless and nursing some coffee."

"Does he have a good body?"

"Moineau!" She smirked, "Yes, actually, he does. A quite nice body at that, and tattoos."

Aure and Yvette went into a fit of giggles.

"Well! What happened then?"

Yvette smiled, "I asked him about his tattoos. He's got I think about six or seven, or more, I'm not sure. He told me he did some of them himself and even some of his brother's. I was impressed." She blushed a little, "Well, we started flirting and joking about my skin's 'virginity.' One thing lead to another and," she stood and lifted her top to reveal the tattoo.

Aure's jaw hit the floor, "You let him give you a tattoo!"

She laughed and nodded, "Yeah, it didn't even hurt. Tickled really."

"Bibiane, eh? It's good. He did a good job." She smirked at Yvette, "I bet you really liked him running his hands across your skin."

"Don't make me hit you. Anyway, he gave it to me for free. A couple days passed with the rain. When it finally let up I was sitting outside and he joined me. I wanted to pay him for the tattoo, he said I didn't have to, but I wouldn't take no. So I paid him with a kiss."

"No!"

"Yes, and it was good. He has a scruffy beard and long hair. The beard tickled as we kissed. We would have…you know…but I decided it just wouldn't be right since I was leaving. So we didn't. We sat on the porch in a comfortable silence until we went in for dinner then retired to bed. I left the next morning before he woke up."

"You hit it and quit it? What a bitch!"

Yvette rolled her eyes, "Whatever."

"So what was in the letter?"

She smiled, "He was just telling me about one of the troublesome lambs there on the farm and his brother and Papa. He asked me how I was and hoped that I was well."

Aure leaned her head on her fist and elbow on the table, "You like him. You like him a lot."

Yvette shrugged, "It doesn't matter any way. When is the next time I'll ever been in Ireland?"

"Next summer."

"What?"

Standing the brunette said, "Obviously! You go back-packing every summer! Why not just follow your feet back to Ireland?"

Yvette shook her head, "I don't like going to the same places twice."  
>"It's not the place, it's the people you're after."<p>

"I don't want to be some creepy stalker! I'll just write him for awhile or something."

Aure looked at Yvette, "You're my best friend, if you weren't I wouldn't be so willing to watch that bitchy horse of yours. Now, all that time you were talking about Murphy, I saw it in your eyes. You like him and you know it."  
>"Fine, yes I like him. He's different…he's not like all the other guys I've met going places. Italian men are all horny, German men are boring, English men are annoying, Russian men are idiots, and French men are…just plain strange."<p>

Aure smirked, "You, Yvette Devereux, have the hots for an Irishman."

"Only a little." However, she couldn't help but blush viciously.

**A/N This chapter goes to my friend Katy once again. She is always a good help and good company to keep **


	6. Sending the Right Message

**A/N Chapter six. I can't believe how easily this idea is all coming to me! Usually I get a block between chapters, but this is different. Thank you to all those who have responded. Reviews mean a lot to me.**

**Chapter Six: Sending the Right Message**

Yvette returned home after a day at the school in October. After she checked her mail she would walk the two miles to her Aure's stables. Reaching into the box attached to the front of her little house. She flipped through the envelopes. There was a bill or two, a letter from her folks. Of course it would be asking her to come home for the holidays. Yvette's family had lived for generations in Normandy. They were all in a little town called Evreux. That's what 'Devereux' meant; of Evreux. She shook her head with a little smile. Putting that letter on the bottom of the stack revealed another personal letter. A smile spread across her face. Sitting on the front steps she tore open the letter. This was her fifth letter from him. Flipping open the letter she began to read:

_Dear Yvette, I'm glad to hear your classes are going well and that your students are diligent workers. I paid attention in school myself, but then again, Connor and I had a rather pretty teacher. She made learning easy. Maybe that's why some of your students are so attentive. Hey, next class, wear a low-cut blouse and see how many boys get perfect marks on their next quiz. _(She couldn't help but laugh)_ I'll put money down all the teen boys do. Anyways, I was thinking, I'm curious as to what your Bibiane looks like. She always sounds like a gorgeous horse. Have you got any pictures of her? If so, I'd like to see one. I promise I'll send it right back. Now that those two things are out of the way, how are you? I always wonder if you had a good for bad day, if you took Bibiane out for a ride, hell, I even wonder if you went to sleep watching a movie. I always think about you._

_ Yours, Murphy_

Yvette smiled and tucked the letter into her bag. Changing into comfortable boots, jeans, and a long sleeved shirt she grabbed a notepad, pen, and left for the stables. As she walked she took out the letter and read it over and over. Always she read the last line aloud. "I always think about you…" She held it to her before shoving it back into her bag when she reached the stables.

Aure was brushing out her gelding. Looking at Yvette's face she called out, "A letter from Murphy today?"

Yvette chuckled, "Yeah! How's my Bibiane?"

"Being a bitch as always."

Yvette stepped out the back of the barn and up to a pretty white fence. Whistling long and high she watched. From across the pasture came a cantering mare. Her coat shone copper in the afternoon sun and her blonde mane danced as she came up to the fence. Slowing to a walk, Bibiane came to the fence and Yvette's waiting hands. The mare stopped at the fence and nudged Yvette.

"Allo, ma chère, je t'aime beaucoup." She kissed the mare silky nose. After taking her out of the pasture and back into the barn, she started talking to Aure, "He says I should wear a low cut blouse to see if my boys will pass their next quiz. He says they will because they'll be paying attention. I think they wouldn't because they'd be staring at my chest."

"Têtue, everyone stares at your chest. Let's face it, you've got a nice rack, especially compared to me." Aure turned to face Yvette who had Bibiane set up for grooming.

Yvette looked over her friend. Sadly, Aure had never really grown into a woman's form. Instead, she was only about five-foot-one, very thin, and had the curves of a twelve year old. Yvette smiled, "Yeah, but you've got a prettier face than me. Those eyes get everyone."

Aure smiled, "Yeah, my eyes are prettier than yours." Her eyes were a baby blue and slightly tilted surrounded by thick dark lashes. Her body might have screamed 'twelve' but her eyes shouted 'twenty-six.'

"He also wants a picture of Bibiane. I think I'm going to send him that one of her last fall. She looked gorgeous in that one."

The brunette scoffed, "Don't you dare! Send him the one you took with her for that magazine article. You remember when they wanted to see how American bred animals fared in foreign countries."

"No! They had me in that stupid dress and that makeup!"

"If he doesn't get a stiffy then stop talking to him."

"Moineau!"

"What? Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"Fine, I won't tell you." Yvette started brushing over her mare's lovely coat, "But I think that picture would be sending the wrong message."

Aure put a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes, "The message that would be sent is 'Hi, I'm a single French girl. I'm five-foot-seven, long ash blonde hair, sultry brown eyes, and tan skin. My name is Yvette. This is my horse, Bibiane. Look at me in this gorgeous white dress with my hair curled and this professionally done makeup. Have I mentioned I haven't been laid in almost three years? Would you like to do the honors?'"

Yvette threw a comb at her friend, "You're an awful person! I don't know why I'm still your friend!"

"Because you love me."

"Only sometimes." She finished grooming Bibiane and went back out to pasture with her. In hand was her notepad. She sat on the fence as her darling Bibiane pranced around like a playful yearling. Slowly she began writing her response to Murphy.

_Dearest Murphy, I think you're wrong. The boys would fail because they'd be looking at my chest and not the board. As for a picture of Bibiane, I've enclosed—_

"Aure! Bring me out the picture! It's pinned on the post beside her stall!"

"I knew you'd see it my way!" After a minute the small woman brought her the picture.

"Thank you." Yvette looked at the picture. It was a year old, but she hadn't changed. For the shoot they had her sitting side-saddle on Bibiane (something neither of them enjoyed) in a long flowing white dress with a split clean up to her hip. She was barefoot and one leg crossed over the other. The worst thing was that they had curled her hair. Yvette hated when her hair was curly. Wavy she could handle, but curly was inexcusable. With her hair curled and pinned up and makeup making her dark eyes glow, they started up a slow fan. The picture portrayed what looked like some romance commercial. Wind blowing through her hair and Bibiane's mane.

Yvette thought she looked pretty, but that it was too much for a picture in a magazine.

—_a picture from last year. It's from a magazine article about American bred animals faring in foreign countries. Hell all it said about me was 'Yvette Devereux lives in the province of Champagne, France with her eight year old Morgan mare. She purchased the mare as a yearling and has raised it. The journalist, and American, tried to beckon the horse, but it wouldn't listen until her owner beckoned her in French. The horse's blood may be American, but her heart is French.' I thought the whole thing was overblown. As to your question of how I am, I'm perfectly fine. Life is really going well for me. If it's any consolation, I actually did fall asleep watching a movie last weekend. It was one of those cute Disney movies the Americans are so renowned for, The Lion King. I also think of you. Call me childish, but I found myself doodling in my notebook during a test today. I sketched out, badly sketched out, some of your tattoos. One of the girls in my class turned in her test and asked what I was drawing. I hid them and told her to sit down. I've been thinking about getting another tattoo, one for my family perhaps, or for my dear friend Aure who I call 'Moineau.' I'm not sure yet, but soon I'll figure it out._

_ Yours Sincerely, Yvette_

Finishing the letter she hopped off the fence and clucked for Bibiane to follow her. Once her beloved mare was back in her stall, Yvette kissed her silky nose and bid Aure farewell. She headed right back to home.

At her house and in her bedroom she sat at her little writing desk. Grabbing an envelope she tucked the letter inside it. Yvette turned over the picture and wrote on the back _You can keep this._ She tucked the picture in with the letter, sealed the envelope, and wrote the addresses on the front.

The following morning she stuck it in her mailbox for the mail courier to get.

**A week later: Ireland**

The brothers were coming into the house after a long day with the sheep. Connor sat down and kicked off his boots. Murphy got a mug of coffee to shake off the chill he felt. Just for the fell of it he poured a glug of whiskey into the hot liquid. Sitting down beside Connor he looked at his father, "Mail today?"

"Jesus Christ Murph! Y'ask every day! Can't ye wait for him to tell yah ef somethin' came?"

"No, actually, I can't."

Noah shook his head at the boys, "Yew two are the sorriest things I've ever known." He held up an envelope, "One letter from France for yew, Murph." He tossed it to his son.

Murphy caught it and tore it open carefully. He pulled out the letter first and chuckled at her comment about the students. Interest panned through his mind about the article. A smirk came across his face about her doodling and an appreciative nod about her want for a second tattoo. When he was finished the letter he pulled the picture out of the envelope. His eyes widened.

Connor, who had been looking at the letter, found his jaw on the floor. He looked at Murphy, "What de hell is a girl like thah doin' talkin' to a sick fuck like yew?"

"Shut it! Just because yew didn't see her thes way before!"

"Yeah, but now she's sexy!"

"Don't talk about her like thah!"

"I'll talk about that fine piece however I want!"

"Asshole!" Murphy tackled Connor out of his chair and the two rolled around on the floor kicking each others ass.

Noah picked up the picture to see what the fuss was about. His brows rose. Well she definitely was a lovely girl. He looked at the mare. There were two beautiful women in the picture, both kinds he could appreciate. The beauty of a human that matched the beauty of nature rarely occurred in his life. The last time he saw someone as beautiful as nature was his wife. She, to him, was as beautiful as the boundless ocean. God he missed her…

Murphy stood up with a bloody lip, "Don't talk about her like thah! I'm serious!"

Connor smirked, "Or what? You'll through another tantrum?"

"I oughta wail on yer ass—"

"Boys! Boys! Thah's enough."

The nodded, "Yes Da." They said in unison.

"Good, now, it's time for dinner. Get washed up."

"Yes mother."

"Oh yes, Mama, we'll go wash up."

The earned the two boys a whack upside the head from their father and sent them laughing back to their room to wash up before dinner.

Connor looked at Murphy, "Where do yah think this is goin'? Yew cain't leave the farm, we need yah, and she's got her own life in France. Yew even thinkin' this will go anywhere attall?"

"I can't have a friend, can I?"

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm just askin' if yew think this is goin' anywhere."

Murphy thought for a minute, "I don't know. Who knows that may happen in the future. I'm leavin' it ta God. He's usually a good fellow to leave things to."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go eat."

Murphy tripped Connor on the way out, only to find himself face first on the floor as Connor grabbed at his ankle.

Noah shook his head. The boys were thirty-one years old and still children.

**A/N This chapter goes to Norman Reedus. I never realized he was in Blade II. Poor Skud got blown up. Ah well, I've started a Reedus Run. I want to see how many of his movies are on Netflix to watch. I'll let you all know if you're curious :D**


	7. Merry Christmas

**A/N Chapter seven ready and raring to go! And so we fly!**

**Chapter Seven: Merry Christmas**

** December **

Yvette sat on the train with a small pillow behind her head and a blanket across her legs. She had Murphy's most recent letter in her hands. It had come in the mail just as she was leaving for the station and was accompanied by a small rectangular package. Now she was off to visit her family for the holidays. Opening the envelope she pulled the letter out.

_Dear Yvette, I hope this finds you enjoying your Christmas vacation. You did tell me you were heading to your family's home in Normandy, so I am unsure if you'll get this before or after your stay with them. If before; have a splendid holiday. If after; I hope you had a great family visit. I'm sure you're wondering what's in the little box, it's a gift, a Christmas gift. Hope you like it. Nothing is going on here. We're just going about our usual days. If you get to party for the holiday, party twice as hard for me. If you drink, drink like the Irish! _(She rolled her eyes) _Now make me a promise, promise me you will give Bibiane a kiss on the nose for me. I'd have sent her a gift, but what do you get a horse? Solid gold shoes? That's just ridiculous. _(She laughed) _Your next thing is to follow my instructions very carefully. I want to you pick up the little box._

Yvette did as she was told. There was something inside, she could feel and hear it move. She turned back to the letter for further instruction.

_Open the box. Inside is another little box, but it's blue. Don't open it just yet._

She used a pen from her bag to tear the tape holding the cardboard box shut. Upon opening she did indeed find another rectangular box. Pulling it out she instantly knew what the box was. It was long, flat, thin, and velvety.

_Now that you're holding it, I'm sure you can guess what it is. You are a very smart girl so I can only assume you know. Open it._

Yvette opened the velvet box. Her breath left her. Inside was a long ribbon with a silver horseshoe dangling off it. Pulling the necklace out of the box and holding it up, she smiled. It was beautiful.

_I can guess you're smiling. I knew you'd like it. Now don't worry, it wasn't as expensive as it may or may not look. I saw it in a shop and thought of you. _

There was a lady sitting across from Yvette. She looked at the necklace, "Oh dear, that's mighty pretty."

Looking at the woman, Yvette nodded, "It is." She pulled her signature braid over her shoulder and tied the ribbon around her neck. The horseshoe sat a few inches below her neck.

"You're boyfriend send that to you for Christmas?"

She blushed and shook her head, "He isn't my boyfriend."  
>"No? Your brother?"<p>

Yvette shook her head, "I'm an only child. No, Murphy is just a very good friend of mine. I feel bad though, I didn't get him anything."

The lady smiled, "Well, what are his interests? Perhaps you can get something and send it off."

Yvette let out a breath, "I don't know…He rides, but I know he isn't as passionate about it as me. He is a devout Catholic, but I hate giving and getting religious gifts during Christmas." She thought a minute. It came to her, "The man smokes like a chimney and drinks like a fish."

The woman nodded, "Then send him some good drinks or something pertaining to smoking. Be creative."

Yvette smiled at the woman, "Thanks."

"No problem, chère."

Leaning back into her seat, the blonde touched the horseshoe. She wrapped her fingers around the charm and closed her eyes.

The next time she opened her eyes an attendant was shaking her, "Mademoiselle, we've arrived."

Yvette got up and stretched. After grabbing her bags she stepped off the train and onto the platform. She didn't even have to look around for the people who were supposed to get her. She instantly heard, "Yvette! Ma bébé! Yvette!" The blonde smiled. Her mother same towards her with her father following close behind. The three left the train station and headed for the Devereux family home.

At the house, Alain Devereux, Yvette's father, plopped down into an overstuffed chair. His name truly didn't fit. 'Alain' meant handsome, but Alain Devereux was not a good looking fellow. His nose was overly large and he had been bald since he was thirty. His eyes were small and squinty. He had a paunchy figure and stood three inches shorter than his daughter. He was, however, who Yvette got her ash blonde hair from. Before going bald, he had had the same color hair. Now it was Marguerite Devereux who passed the looks onto Yvette. She stood five inches taller than her husband, had thick, rich, dark brown hair, and the tan complexion. She also had the deep, dark brown eyes that Yvette now possessed.

Marguerite sat down on the couch and looked at Yvette, "Darling, my sweet Yvette, do explain who this man your petite friend Aure has told us about."

Yvette sank slowly onto the couch beside her mother, "Aure told you about him?"

"Oh not much, just that you've been a pen-pal to some fellow since you got home from traveling. We don't even know his name."

Yvette smiled, "His name is Murphy, Murphy MacManus."

Alain wrinkled his nose, "An Irishman? Where did you meet an Irishman?"

"In Ireland, I told you I went up north this summer. I hit bad weather and stayed with these nice gentlemen. Murphy and I hit it off as friends, Connor, his brother, and I got along, if not as well. Sadly, Noah, their father, doesn't speak a word of French so he and I could never really just chat."

"And the boys?" Asked her mother.

Yvette nodded, "Yes! When they were young their mother insisted they learn as many languages as possible. They speak seven, French being one of them. I couldn't believe my luck when I learned that. For once I had the luck of meeting someone who spoke French." Leaning back into the back of the couch she smiled happily and absently toyed with her new necklace.

From across the living room Alain watched his daughter. He narrowed his eyes, "That's a pretty trinket you have there."

She dropped the charm, "Oh, I didn't realize I was playing with it." She nodded and cleared her throat, "Murphy sent it to me for Christmas…just a little gift."

Marguerite smiled at her daughter, "So tell me, what does this Murphy look like? Is he a nice fellow? Is his French good?"

Alain grumbled and got up, "I'm getting something to drink." He had no problems with any other race of people; however Alain was a very proud Frenchman. In his direct bloodline there wasn't a single person outside of the French race. He wouldn't care who his beloved daughter went with, but he would be a little upset at the fact she would be the first to break the chain of pure bloodedness.

Yvette sighed and shook her head, "Murphy is real nice, sort of a romantic type. He's about five-ten or five-eleven. When he speaks French I can't even tell he's Irish. Now, he is a scruffy guy. He and Connor both have long hair and beards, but I like it."

"Who's older between the boys?"

Yvette shrugged, "I never asked, they're twins. If I had to guess, I would say Connor is older." She repositioned so she was sitting sideways and leaning her head in her hand and her elbow on the back of the couch, "Murphy and I have been writing ever since I got back, like Aure said. He's a great guy. I was even thinking of going back to Ireland this upcoming summer so that I could see them again. Noah is a great guy too. He and I spent one of the rainy days just cleaning the little cottage while the boys were working. He and I didn't say a word to each other and it was comfortable silence." She looked around and called, "Papa! Are you coming back?"

"I need to find something!"

Yvette smiled. She knew her dad would hate this next part. Smiling at her mom she said, "I got a tattoo."  
>Marguerite gasped and put a hand over her heart, "Oh mon Dieu! Please tell me you're joking!"<p>

She showed her mother the ink. "Nope. I got a nice one for Bibiane. You know how I love my darling mare."  
>"I don't like it, but it is nice. Where did you have it done?"<p>

"Murphy did it for me."

Now the older Frenchwoman flushed, "Dear Lord, you didn't!"

Yvette just chuckled, "Maman, I'm twenty-seven; I knew what I was doing. Anyway, he's done them before. He and his brother both."

"On each other?"

"Yeah. Murphy has about seven tattoos that I know of. The ones he and Connor did are really good." She leaned against the couch, "It tickled."

"So what made him so special to keep chatting with?"

Yvette blushed a little, "I dunno, we sort of hit it of. We were sitting together in front of the house and, well, one thing led to another and we ended up kissing."

Marguerite clasped her chest again, "Yvette!"

"I'm a big girl, Maman, I can take care of myself."

She shook her head, "I hope so."

The two sat there for the next few hours just talking. It was good to catch up with her family. Yvette always loved visiting them.

**The Following Day**

Yvette and her mother were shopping. They were looking into windows and deciding whether or not to go in. It was while they were doing this that Yvette saw what she wanted to get Murphy. She tugged on her mother's sleeve, "That is perfect." She pointed into a window. It was a cigar/cigarette store. In the window was a display of Zippo lighters. She pointed as a brassy gold one. Plain, simple, but she new that her chimney-esque friend would like it.

Marguerite sighed, "What kind of gift is a lighter?"

"Well, he smokes a lot, so I suppose it's a gift he could use every day." She pulled her mother to follow her into the shop.

The man behind the counter smiled at the women, "Bonjour ladies. How may I help you?" He smiled at Yvette, "I saw you looking at the display. Was there one you would like?"

She nodded, "The brassy gold Zippo. I'd like it as a gift for my friend."

He bowed his head and got the lighter. Turning it in his hand she smiled at her, "Twenty euro. For an extra five euro I can etch something into it for you. Perhaps an initial, a little picture, anything like that?"

Yvette smiled broadly, "That would be great! Could you put a nice 'M' on it? Nothing too elaborate, he is a rather rugged guy."

The man nodded. He went into a backroom. There was a sound that carried for a few moments. When he came out he blew on the front of the lighter and showed her, "Is this to your liking, Mademoiselle?"

Yvette took the lighter and ran a thumb over the newly etched 'M.' It was simple, yet neatly done. She smiled and nodded, "It's perfect. Merci beaucoup." After paying the two walked out.

"Shall we go to the post now dear? And get that sent of right away?" Marguerite asked of her daughter.

Yvette nodded and they made their way through the small town to the little post office. There she addressed a small box, wrote a quite note to go along with it, and had the little package sent off toute suite. For the rest of the holiday, Yvette spent time with her family. All of it. She got to see her father's side and mother's side, some of them for the first time in a few good years. It was good to see everyone again.

**Ireland: Two Days after Christmas**

Noah walked into the boy's room. The two were snoring enough to make deaf people cringe. He kicked the ends of their beds, "Wake up, boys."

Connor groaned, "No…No 'wake…sleep good…"

"Yeah…wha' he said…"

Noah tossed something onto Murphy's bed, "Thah came for ye yesterday, but ye went right ta bed."

Murphy sat up and held the box. He rubbed his eyes a few times to get the sleep out. Looking at the box he read Yvette's name on the return-to-sender line and instantly ripped open the box. He pulled out the little note. _Murphy, I saw this in the shop window and thought of you, much like how you saw the necklace and thought of me. I have a feeling you'll use it every day. Yours, Yvette. _Tipping the box the lighter fell into his hand. He smirked and showed his dad, "She knows me."

Noah chuckled, "Aye, it's nice too. Is thah an M?"

Murphy flipped the lighter over, "Oh shit, et is. Now that's just sweet." Getting up he got dressed and pulled on a sweater. Walking out front he looked out into the morning. He pulled a cigarette from a pack of ones he had rolled the previous day. Using his new lighter he enjoyed his first cigarette of the day. Nodding happily he looked at the lighter before pocketing it. Not some cheesy card or a cross or some other cliché Christmas gift, no, she got him a new lighter. He laughed and took another pull form the cigarette, "God she's good."

**A/N This chapter goes out to my brother. Not because he's a great supporter, but because he finds this stuff stupid. So here's to you, Danny boy, here's one for you.**


	8. When it Rains, it Pours

**A/N Man I'm serious! I've never pumped out chapters this quick! I feel good. This is fun, this is a fun time for me :D**

**Chapter Eight: When it Rains, is Pours**

Noah was sitting by the fire in the late afternoon in mid June. He had a mug of coffee in one hand and the poker in another. The boys were out being sure the sheep were tucked away nicely due to the rain pouring down viciously. Just as he took a nice long draught from his mug there was a beating on the door. After almost spitting the hot liquid did he get up and walk over to the door, "Who in the fuck could it be?" Turning the knob and opening the door he saw the sorriest sight ever. Before him stood a young woman who had been caught in the rain. She was drenched to the bone and shivering. Obviously she had been in the rain for more than just a few minutes. Noah didn't even care to recognize who it was until he got her into the spare room. Only when he helped her with her bag and, trying his best not to look at anything, helped her undress and get into the bed.

She looked at him through tired eyes, "N-N-No-o-oah."

Then he recognized the woman, "Yes lass, it's me." He tossed another blanket on top of her. She was pale and blue-lipped from the cold. Knowing there wasn't much he could do, he walked out. When he looked over his shoulder her eyes were closed. He would have thought she was dead if it hadn't been for her chest moving up and down. Instead, he went back into the main part of the house, found an old fashioned brazier, filled it with hot coals from the fire, and put it in her room. Anything to help her get warm again.

The old man sat back down in his chair before the fire and waited for the boys to come back inside.

Suddenly the door slammed open. Connor and Murphy stepped in all muddy and wet from the rain. They were jibing and laughing.

Noah stood and hushed them, "Be quiet, boys. Hush."

Murphy scoffed, "What for? 'Fraid we'll scare away de little mices?"

Connor laughed, "Yeah, the poor thing's will be scared shitless."

"We have a guest."

The two silenced at once, "Guest?" They asked together.

Noah looked at the twins, "Yes, a guest. A traveler caught in the rain. She's sleeping now. My guess is she was caught in the rain for a long time before she made her way to our little home. You'll do well not to wake her as I'm sure when she does wake up, she'll be sick."  
>"Whoa, whoa, whoa, she?" Connor asked with a very confused look on his scruffy face.<p>

"Aye. She. You both remember her from last summer."

It was as Murphy was taking off his jacket and boots that Noah said this. He looked at his dad, "Yvette?"

Noah nodded.

Murphy grabbed a chair and went right into the spare room. He sat down across the room from the bed. She was really there…but he wasn't sure he was happy about it. She looked ill, horribly ill. Her face was pale as winter snow and her lips were colorless to the point of being blue. He stared at her through the low light the brazier gave off.

Connor came to the door. He raised a brow, "So she is here."

Murphy looked at Connor, "Aye."

"You want food?"

"I'm fine for now."

He shrugged, "Alright. I'll bring yah somethin' in a bit." He looked at his brother staring at the sleeping woman and shook his head as he walked away.

Murphy sat there. Suddenly he heard it all. He heard the rain on the roof and beating against the window. It was musical, just as she said. For the entire night he sat there listening to the music of God's fury.

**Three Days Later**

Murphy walked in from a long day's work. He took off his coat and boots and went straight to the spare room. The past few days a person could either find him doing his job or spending every other second watching Yvette sleep. She hadn't woken up yet. She hadn't even moved. On more than one occasion she coughed in her sleep. Each time she coughed Murphy would jump a little and stare at her hard to be certain she was fine.

Noah shook his head in the kitchen over a pot of stew he was brewing, "He ain't eat much dese last few days."

Connor nodded, "Aye…He's worried." He looked at the door to the spare room, "Hell, so am I. She ain't moved in three whole days. Her eyes haven't opened once. Hell, her foot hasn't even twitched."

The old man sighed, "She's sick."

"What do ye think she was doin'? Out in that rain?"

"I don't tink she meant et, I tink she was walkin' along and suddenly it started to pour. My guess is she was still far enough away to get good and wet before she showed up at our door for the second time." He stroked his beard, "Oh aye, I think she was doin' her travelin' bit again and decided to pop in and see us again. Et was just the wrong day for her to take a walk."

Connor nodded and accepted a bowlful of stew from his father.

Inside the room…

Murphy sat looking out the window. The rain had let up to a simple drizzle. He looked at Yvette. The color had returned to her face. In fact, she looked flushed. He had taken the brazier out and removed one of the blankets to help the red leave her face. When he sat back down he watched her sleep again.

Then it happened.

She moved.

Murphy sat up straighter and watched as she took a deeper breath than she had in her slumber. She turned her head to look towards the ceiling. Her eyes opened. Turning her head back to the left she saw Murphy. When she tried to sit up, he jumped to his feet and kept her down. She blinked slowly and cleared her sore throat, "How…How long…?" Her voice was scratchy and quiet.

He took a deep breath, "Three days."

She blinked and rubbed her eyes, "Really?"

He nodded, "Look, wait a second, I'll get you some water or tea or something." He got up and walked out of the room.

Yvette took the opportunity. She pushed her two pillows back and sat upright. Leaning her head back against the wall she closed her eyes. Her head ached something fierce.

Murphy came back and gave her a disapproving look due to her new position. He handed her a steaming mug of tea, "Here."

She smiled weakly and accepted the drink.

Connor and Noah appeared in the doorway. The white haired man smiled, "Good to see you awake, Yvette. I was worried when you came to the door. You still don't look to good." The sentence was quickly translated by Murphy.

Connor nodded, "Yeah. Three days ye been out. Y'ain't even move! Just laid in that same position and coughed every now and again."

She frowned, "Well I had hoped," she sipped the tea which felt amazing against her throat, "to surprise you guys. Turns out I worried you more than surprised you."

Murphy nodded to Connor and Noah and told them he had this. When they left he turned back to her. "I thought you never went the same place twice."

"Yeah, well I want to go to Scotland and since it's just a short boat ride from Ireland, I thought I'd come see you guys."

He smiled at her, then frowned, "You should carry an umbrella with you."

She frowned and crossed her arms, "I did. The wind broke it…"

"So how do you feel?"

Yvette looked up as she scanned her mind for the answer. Oh…How did it go again? She looked at him, "I'm fine, mais, my 'ead 'urts."

Murphy was taken by surprise. Yes, she said 'mais,' but everything else was English. He smirked, "When did you start learning English?"

"January. Tutor say English is best for me. I learn easy wis English."

He chuckled. Her words were highly accented, but understandable. He clapped his hands, "Good, good."

She smiled back and after a swig of tea she said, "I want to speak wis Noah, and I know 'e speaks English."

"Aye, he does. I'm impressed. I'd kiss you if you weren't sick I'm so impressed."

She blushed a little, "Merci."

Murphy nodded to her mug, "Finish your tea. If you want, Da made stew." All of which he said in English.

She chuckled, "Français, s'il vous plait. Je sais que l'anglais, mais, pas ce quoi tu as dit." Asking for him to speak French.

Murphy smiled at her, "Finish your tea, Da made stew if you want some."

She sighed and finished off the mug. She nodded, "Yeah, I'm kinda hungry."

He took her empty mug and returned with a small bowl of stew and a fresh mug of tea. He set them on the bedside table. Curious, he put a hand to her forehead. She was burning up. "Do you feel warm?"

She nodded, "Yes actually, I do." She took off another blanket so she was only under a thin wool blanket.

Murphy took the blanket and folded it. He tossed the blanket into the corner and returned to her side, "Eat, sleep, do whatever, but don't get up."

"And if I have to pee?"

"Oh alright, that's different. If you have to pee, get up and go pee."

She gave him a little smile and grabbed the bowl, "Thank you, Nurse Murphy."

"Smart ass."

"Always."

He kissed her forehead before walking out of the room and leaving her to eat for a minute. He was starving. He'd eaten less than half of what he usually ate in the last few days. How could he when he was worried for Yvette? He just couldn't.

Yvette gave a little smile and ate a few spoonfuls of stew. It was great and she would have eaten more, but she felt full after about half of the bowl was in her system. She nestled down into the bed and realized something. She wasn't wearing any clothes. Taking a moment she thought back to when she arrived. Noah had helped her into the house and bed. At least it wasn't Connor. For some reason she never wanted that man to see her naked. She was also happy it wasn't Murphy. That would have just embarrassed her. She didn't even care if the old man saw her naked.

Just as she was about to get up to go to her bag in the corner, Murphy knocked and opened the door a touch, "May I?"

"Yeah, grab my bag on," her sentence broke with a short string of coughing, "on your way in."

Nodding he picked up the pack and brought it to the bedside. Opening it he looked at her, "Your pack was soaked too, wasn't it?"

She nodded.

He pulled out a shirt she had in here. It was still damp, not wet, but just a little damp.

Yvette grimaced, "Great…" Closing her eyes with a sigh she said, "I don't want to lay here naked…"

Murphy laughed a little, "I'll be right back." He left again and came back in a few minutes. He tossed something on the foot of the bed.

Holding the blanket to her chest, Yvette reached for them. They were cotton flannel pants a tee shirt. She smiled and, taking the clothes, disappeared under the blanket.

He watched as it looked like two cats had a fight under a sheet. "The hell…"

Yvette popped back out from beneath the blanket fully dressed. She held the shirt out around her, "I could start up a circus in this tent."

"Hey, you're the little one here. Don't complain if my shit doesn't fit you."

She gave him a little smile, "I wasn't complaining, I was trying to make a joke." Leaning back against the pillows again, she closed her eyes, "You should probably get to bed."

"I'm not the tired one here." Standing he bent over her and kissed her forehead, "Good night."

She gave him a little smirk, "Are you gunna tuck me in too, Maman? A class of warm milk with cookies?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he walked out, "Smartass."

"Just a little."

Stopping at the door, he turned to her, "Here. It's warmer than any blanket if you get cold." He took off his sweater and tossed it to her.

Yvette smiled at him as he walked out. Grabbing the sweater she pulled it on regardless of how warm she was. Curling up under the blanket she gave the sweater a sniff. It smelled of three very distinct things. One, it smelled like a farm and she liked it. She was used to farm like smells what with the stables. A stable could be clean as a whistle and still smell like horses. Two, it smelled like the rain. She loved the rain. Three, it smelled like a man. Just the clean, but perfumed scent of a man who showered with normal soap and said 'screw it' to body sprays. The whole thing smelled natural and she liked it. She fell back asleep smelling the sweater.

**A/N This chapter goes out to my new 'little brother.' My mom's new beau has a cute seven-year-old named Hunter and I get to be his big sister. I'm finally the older one! Thank you dearly Hunter **


	9. Choice One

**A/N Thank to any and all who read and review. Much love :D For those wondering, it is now approximately six years before the beginning of BDS2**

**Chapter Nine: Choice One**

Murphy walked into the spare room early on a Sunday morning. She had been on the mend for a few days now. He knelt beside her bed and gave her a little shake, "Wake up."

Rubbing her eyes and yawning she asked, "Why?"

Murphy put a hand on her forehead. She still had a fever, but not such a vicious one as before. He smiled, "You still have a fever, but I think it'll be gone soon enough. Now, get up."

"Why?"

He smiled, "Church."

Yvette pushed herself upright, "I don't go to church. I'm spiritual, but I don't really go."

"Well you're going today. Up, up, up."

Getting out of bed she stretched. She did feel better. Her headache was gone, she didn't feel so stiff, her voice was still scratchy, but not awful. She ran a hand through her hair, "Fine, I'll go." She grabbed a pair of jeans and her boots from a pile. The boys had washed her clothes and dried them by the fire. Sitting on the foot of the bed she took off the overly large sweater and picked up a bra and shirt. Giving Murphy a look she said, "Get the fuck out, man. Don't be a perv."

He chuckled and stepped out the door.

Yvette shook her head and stood. Changing into the fresh bra and shirt, she grabbed the sweater and pulled it back on. Murphy hadn't been able to get that sweater back no matter how hard he tried. After finished getting dressed she walked out into the main room while braiding her long hair.

The three men nodded.

Noah smiled at her, "Right, shall we leave?"

Yvette nodded with a little smile of her own. She felt very proud of herself she could understand his English, "Oui, but…I sought (thought) people go to church in nice clothes."

Connor dismissed her with a wave, "Fancy Frogs do. We go in what we please."

Murphy punched his brother in the arm, "Don't call them that!"

"Oh fuck off, Murph, I'll say what I want."

Yvette stepped up to Connor, "I don't call you a Potato Head, do you don't call me a Frog." She turned and headed for the door, "Let's go."

Connor glared at the back of Yvette's head as they left the house and Noah lead the way to the local church.

Murphy gave her a little nudge, "He deserved that. I say you call him Tater from now on, just to piss him off."  
>She shook her head, "I'm not one for racial slurs. I only use them when they're used against me."<p>

"Which do you hate the most?"

A dark look went across her face, "I was going through Germany a while back and some smart ass caught me with a two-in-one. I was in this little coffee shop and had trouble ordering a drink. Well, this said 'Just leave, you Snail Snapping Surrender Monkey.' I got my coffee and splashed it in his face. The fucker…I hate 'Snail Snapper' especially because I never had a taste for escargot…and my grandfather fought in World War II. His battalion never surrendered."

He nodded, "Makes sense."

The group approached the little church. The priest was standing at the door welcoming the churchgoers. He smiled at the MacManus family, "Ah the family MacManus. Who is this lovely creature?" He asked in Gaelic of the boys.

Murphy whispered a translation in Yvette's ear.

Connor stepped up, "This is Yvette Devereux, a friend of ours. She travels Europe a lot and found herself in our home for a second time. She's French."

"She speaks French and only limited English."

The priest smiled at her and, in French, said, "Welcome to the church."

Yvette's face lit up, "You speak French?"

"Un petit peu." Motioning a small amount with his thumb and index he said, "I spent time in France with the church."

Yvette held out a hand for shaking, "Plaisir."

He took her hand and gave it a chaste kiss, "You are welcome any time you wish."

"Merci, Père."

The four went into the church and found their seats.

Yvette looked to Murphy, "How am I to know what to do? I've never been to a Catholic church."

"Just do as I do."

Yvette nodded.

Mass commenced. Yvette's eyebrows were in her hairline. The whole thing was in Latin. Now she really felt out of place. She did as Murphy did throughout the entire morning. At the end when everyone left, people—mostly women—approached her.

"Oh a new face?"

"Where did you find her, Murphy?"

"What a darling girl!"

"I thought I saw a new face come in with the MacManus'"

"Has Murphy got himself a girl, then?"

Yvette's eyes were wider than a deer's in headlights.

Murphy silenced the people and quickly explained that she was French.

The ladies let out a collective 'oh' of understanding.

He quickly translated for Yvette.

She gave a little blush and quickly answered and acknowledged everyone. Yes she was new. She found him. Thank you. Yes, she's a good friend of the boys. As for the last question she blushed deeply.

The woman who asked that question gave a little smile at her blush.

On the way back home Murphy and Yvette hung back as Connor and Noah walked ahead. He looked down at her, "You never answered that one woman."

"Which one?"

"The one who asked if Murphy has a girl, you never gave her an answer."

Yvette took a deep breath and looked up at him. Taking another long breath she said, "Well, I wouldn't want to give only half of an answer, now would I?"

"What do you mean?"

She gave him a little smile, "In order for someone to have a girl, the girl also has to have the boy." Tucking her hands in her pockets she gave a little shrug, "You've had me since last summer."

Murphy stopped walking and pulled her to a stop. He put his hands on either side of her face and smiled at her, "I never wanted that rain to stop pouring." Not even caring that she was still on the mend of being sick, Murphy kissed her.

Connor looked back to see if they were still following. He stopped and watched for a moment.

Noah stopped and looked at Connor, then followed the man's eyes to the couple. He nodded, "I knew it."

"Yeah."

"Y'alright son?"

Connor shrugged and kept walking, "Et's just the first time I've ever felt second in Murph's life."

Noah chuckled and gave his son a pat on the shoulder, "Don't feel bad, son. She may have him now, but who had him for the last thirty-two years?"

Connor smirked, "She can't touch that, can she."

"No, she can't. Girlfriends and wives are additions, brothers have always been there. You'll see. One day, when it boils down, Murphy will choose you over Yvette. Just wait."

Connor liked the sound of that. He did enjoy how his father had always been a man of great advice and knowledge. Prison. Connor gave all the credit to his father's knowledge to prison. 'When a man is alone, he thinks' is something Noah always said to his sons. He said that is why lonesomeness is dangerous.

Back at the house Yvette and Murphy sat outside drinking hot coffee. He had asked if she wanted to go back to bed, but she just shook her head. No more would she rest it out. Yvette had never believed in bed-rest. She thought it was all a crock. Now she would do things and keep her blow flowing strong. That would get her better faster.

The two of them sat on the front porch on the little bench. They talked quietly.

"When are the doctors going to let me leave?" She asked him with a little smirk.

He chuckled, "When you're better. No fever, no cough, and no scratchy throat."

She frowned, "I was hoping you would say in a day or two. I've already been here for almost a week. At this rate I won't get to Scotland before my deadline to turn back home." She sighed, "I don't even feel like going anywhere. I think I'll just take the rest of my travel money and get a one way ticket home."

"That sounds like a plan to me, but why not keep on going?"

She shrugged, "I just don't feel like it anymore." Nodding she said, "Yeah, I'm just going to get a ticket and go home." She leaned her head on his shoulder.

Murphy put an arm around her. One handed he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with the lighter she had given him six months earlier.

Yvette smiled at the sight of the lighter, "So you do use it."

"Aye, I like it."

Reaching up she plucked the cigarette from his lips and took a pull. She blew the smoke out her nose and handed it back to him.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"Not often, but on the off occasion if I feel like it. It all started in college with an ex-boyfriend. I started chain-smoking and instead of quitting hardcore, forever, I just slowed down and now I can smoke whenever and not feel like I need more."  
>He blew out some smoke, "You're better than me. I started way young, in my teens. I've been smoking like a chimney ever since."<p>

She just chuckled at him and stole the cigarette again. "Pansy." She gave him a little smile, "Ever had a Smoker's Kiss?"

He shook his head. Hell he hadn't even heard of it.

Yvette smiled and took a pull. Positioning so she could kiss him, she pressed her lips to his. As she kissed him she blew the smoke into his mouth.

When she pulled back he had a brow raised, "Where did you learn that?"

She smirked. Together they said, "College."

"That ex?"

She shook her head and sat back, "Nope. Aure."

His eyebrow went up, "You're…?"

She scoffed, "No, just had a little fun is all. I told you she's been my closest friend since I was little. We've done every thing together."  
>He gave her a little smirk, "Everything?" He wiggled his brows suggestively.<p>

"You pervert!" She punched him in the arm. "No, just most things."

"Can I still think about it?"

Another punch. "Stop being a perv. Anyway, Aure is sort of little. She never really grew into a woman's frame. She's short, no real definition. Her saving grace is her face. She got the long gorgeous brown hair, beautiful eyes, just a real pretty face. Hell, she makes me look like last week's rotting garbage in the facial department."

"I don't believe that."

"Well if you ever meet her, you'll know what I mean."

That's when the thought occurred to him. Meet Aure? Meet other people Yvette was friends with? Her family? Hell she already knew his brother and dad along with some of the nice ladies from the church.

Meeting Yvette's friends and family…it seemed important.

**Four Days Later**

Murphy and Yvette stood on the front porch kissing. When they broke apart she ran a hand through his long hair, "Until whenever." She was better now and had gotten the go ahead to leave. She would miss him all over again.

"Until whenever."

Turning she walked away from the small cottage.

Murphy stepped inside and looked at his father, "How much does a ticket ta France cost?"

Noah looked confused, "Why do ye ask son?"

"I'm not lettin' her go this time. I'm not willin' ta wait a year before I see her again."

Connor stood up, "Are you fuckin' serious? Ye're gunna go to France and chase after her? Really? What kinda shit is thah! Ye cain't just go off and leave! Ye've got responsibilities here too, yah know!"

Noah stood, "Connor!" He turned to Murphy, "If you must; go. I can help Connor with the sheep."

"Da! How can ye let him go?"

Murphy wasn't even listening. He was already thinking of what he would need when he left for France.

**A/N For giving me the biggest Mind Fuck I've ever had, this goes to Roxy, my dog. I put her out, all doors closed. A couple hours alter I turn around and BAM! she is back inside! No doors were open, we don't have doggy doors, so how the hell? For the mind fuck and a good laugh, this is for Roxy Bear**


	10. Ich Liebe Dich

**A/N Now I'm hardly even writing for reviews and what people think. They could bash this story all they want, I don't care. I am not going to stop! I have to finish this!**

**Chapter Ten: Ich liebe dich**

Yvette had been home for nearly two weeks. After a long hard day at the stables, the waiting bathtub was a Godsend. She filled it with steaming water hot enough to boil lobsters and dropped in some bath salts. After the salts she poured a small amount of plumeria scented oil into the hot water. The scent began to fill the air of her bathroom. Removing her robe and tying her hair up into a messy bun, Yvette lowered herself into the hot bath. She let out a soft sigh of relief. The fizzling salts and sweet scent relaxed her and she sank chin deep into the water.

After soaking for a few minutes she grabbed a clean rag and some body wash. Slowly she started to wash away the sweat and grime from the day's work. She had helped Aure muck every single stall, bathe half of the horses, groom all of the horses, clean the tack rooms, sweep the loose hay, fix a broken fence section, tend to the yard, and sweep and spray the front parking lot clean. It had been a very, very long day. Closing her eyes she leaned her head back against the wall. Taking a few very deep breaths she reopened them and reached for her razor and cream. No, Yvette wasn't one of those French women who didn't shave often. She actually shaved regularly. Never had she liked the prickly feeling of leg or underarm hair. It bothered her…

Just as she finished shaving there was a knock at the door. She grimaced, "Can't a girl relax for one fucking moment!" Standing she grabbed her towel and robe. While she dried off she called out to the person at the door, "One minute! Don't go anywhere!" Suddenly she remembered her dad said he was coming for a short visit…but he said he wouldn't get there until at least eight. It was only six-thirty. Quickly she dried off and grabbed some clothes. In a hurry she pulled on some undergarments, a black cotton skirt, and a cream colored tank top. Pulling her hair out of the bun, she ran a comb through it and headed for the door hoping who she could only assume was her father was still there.

At the door she put on a smile. As she turned the knob and pulled it open she said, "Papa! You're early!"

It wasn't her Papa.

Yvette was shocked to see Murphy standing at her door.

Her jaw hit the floor, "Murphy...What…What…" She couldn't find the rest of the words she was looking for. Instead she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

He smiled at her as he pulled back, "Surprise."

She smiled, then smacked his chest, "I was in the middle of a very relaxing bath you dick!"

"How was I supposed to know?" He raised a brow, "Is that why you smell so good?"

She shrugged and beckoned him into her little home.

Murphy looked around the small place. It put the cottage he and his family lived in look like a rat hole. Her small house had neat, clean furniture, a small kitchen, and an open and welcoming fireplace he could see her sitting by in the winter. An open door he could see into depicted a woman's bedroom with dark oak furniture. He liked it. Small, but nice.

Yvette was in the kitchen looking around for stuff, "Um, would you like something? Anything? A drink, I've got some stuff somewhere."

Murphy walked up to her and stilled her. He reminded her of a bird suddenly spooked by the whinny of a horse or the revving of an engine. He put his hand on her shoulders, "I'm fine. Right now the only thing I want is you." He kissed her deeply.

Her heart had been pounding in surprise when he arrived. Now it was pounding with desire. When the kiss broke, she looked up into his endless blue eyes. Taking his hands, she led him to her bedroom. The nice aesthetics of the rooms were lost to the both of them. The only thing either of them wanted was the other person.

**Two Hours Later**

Yvette's eyes popped open. She was nestled against Murphy's sleeping form and using his chest as a pillow. What in the world was that horrid racket? Sitting upright she listened intently for a few minutes before realizing it was her front door.

"Merde!" She jumped out of bed and scrambled for her clothes.

Murphy woke up, "What's going on?"

She pulled on her discarded clothes, "Currently there is someone at my door. I can only assume it's my dad. I thought you were him when you got here. Well, now he's here." She pulled her tank top on and stopped at the door, "Please, I beg you; wait here until I can butter him up a bit. Papa…Well…I'll tell you in a minute." She stepped out into the main room and straight to the door. When she opened it she smiled, "Sorry, Papa, I was taking a nap when you got here. Please come in, sit down."

Alain walked into the house and sat down on the couch, "I was knocking on that door for almost half an hour! Look!" He held up his left hand. The knuckles were bruised.

She covered her mouth in dismay, "Oh Papa! I'm so sorry! Why didn't you let yourself in?"

He grimaced, "I forgot to put your house key on my chain."

Yvette smiled and got him something cold to drink as it was a very warm night and he was sweating fiercely. She sat down on the couch beside him, "Papa, do you remember that guy I told you and Maman about last Christmas?"  
>"The Irish fellow." He looked at her through narrowed eyes, "Why?"<p>

She took in a breath, "Well, when I went traveling I went to go see them."  
>"Your mother told me."<p>

"Did she tell you I got sick?"

"From the rain. Stayed with kind people."

"Yes, I stayed with the MacManus', Murphy's family. They helped me get better and I went home. Papa, I'm with Murphy. I really have been since last summer."

He took a deep breath, "Alright. I want to know this. When can I meet this Murphy fellow? Do you expect me to go all the way to Ireland with my health?" Alain had never been a vigorously healthy man. Ever since he was forty he had a perpetual cough. He had won a bout with cancer five years earlier, but it had taken its toll. The doctors said he wasn't going to die, he would be weaker.

She shook her head, "Um, no actually. You see, he's here."

"What?"

"He wanted to surprise me. It just happened to be on the same day you would come."

"Well where is the man?"

Yvette stood, "He's in…" It took a lot for her to say where exactly he was because she knew she'd get a very large frown in return. "He's in my room."

And there was the frown.

She smiled, "Let me get him." Stepping into her room, she found him sitting patiently on the edge of the bed near the head. He was looking at two framed pictures in her room. One was on the wall. It was a gorgeous picture of a field with the setting sun. One was on her nightstand. That one was of a very scruffy looking man with long hair and a beard to match. Murphy was looking between the two photos.

"It's your eyes."

He looked at her.

"Your eyes. I had it on the wall, but I couldn't see them when I was in bed. I had to move it to someplace I could. Now put your shirt on. Papa is waiting." She handed him the shirt.

Standing he pulled on the piece of clothing and ran his hands through his hair, "Let's go meet daddy."

She smiled and took his hand. Leading him out into the living room, she cleared her throat, "Papa, c'est mon copain, Murphy MacManus. Murphy, c'est mon Papa." She introduced him as her boyfriend to her father.

Alain looked Murphy up and down. He didn't dislike any race. What he didn't like what Murphy's apparent lack of grooming. That hair! He held out a hand. He looked at his daughter and asked, "As-tu du trouver quelqu'un avec plus de cheveux que le yeti?" (Did you have to find someone with more hair than a yeti?)

Murphy chuckled and took the offered hand, "Pardon, monsieur, de mon apparence." He said, asking a pardon for his looks.

Alain's eyes went wide and he looked at Yvette, "You didn't tell me he spoke French."

"I told Maman."

"She didn't tell me."  
>Murphy smiled, "Hello, sir, it's good to meet you. Yvette has told me about you and your wife. She loves you both very much." He then looked at Yvette and asked in English, "Does he know about the tattoo?"<p>

"Maman does. He would have a heart attack."  
>Alain looked at them, "Yvette, what have I told you?"<p>

She sighed, "Désole, Papa, I meant no disrespect. He only asked a question that meant nothing about you." She kissed her dad's cheek, "Please be nice," she whispered in his ear.

"Fine." The man sat down. He motioned for Murphy to sit in the seat across from him, "Let's talk, boy."

Murphy sat down.

Yvette stepped outside and sat on the front step. Her heart was pounding. This wasn't good…Not good at all! She knew her dad disapproved. All her life she had been told how far back her bloodlines ran. She could name every grandsire of hers for four hundred years. Her father was a proud man. He had always hoped his darling daughter would marry a French man who could trace his lineage as well as she could trace her own. But alas, that probably wouldn't happen. She was currently with Murphy and for however long it lasted, there was no hope of some dashing Frenchman to whisk her off her feet.

And then she heard it.

There was a loud, throaty laugh coming from inside the house. Yvette stood and walked inside.

Alain and Murphy were both laughing.

"And then—and then the next thing the horse is suddenly bucking all about and he throws me off. Connor had to try and get the horse away before he trampled me. That damn horse. He hadn't bucked me off for almost three years when suddenly _wham! _he freaks out for no apparent reason."

Alain was laughing. When he saw his daughter he wiped a tear from his eye, "Oh Yvette, this boy is funny. He was telling me about the time he—"

"He was thrown off the horse. Yeah, he told me that story. I laughed so hard I almost peed."

"He couldn't hold on!"

Yvette couldn't help it. She started laughing. "Connor told me he started to scream like a five year old!"

The father and daughter shared a good long laugh.

Murphy nodded with a blasé look on his face, "Never tell two people the same story…"

Yvette leaned down and kissed Murphy on the cheek, "Don't give me that look." She whispered in his ear, "I think you've made a great first impression."

Alain smiled at the Irishman, "You know, I never liked when my Yvette dated. No one has ever been good enough." He point at Murphy, "But you are the first one to make me laugh." He slapped his knee and laughed, "Haha! I like you, Murphy MacManus."

**Three Days later**

Yvette kissed her dad on the cheek, "Au revoir, Papa. I'll come for Christmas again."

Alain hugged his daughter, "Alright then, the train is about to leave. I'll see you." He kissed her cheek and picked up his suitcase, "You tell that Murphy the next time I see him he better have some new stories. I haven't laughed so much in a few days in a very long time."

She nodded, "Yes, Papa."

After watching her father leave she walked out of the train station. Murphy was standing there smoking and waiting for her. He put an arm around her shoulder as they made their way to the bus stop.

While they waited, Murphy leaned down and kissed her cheek.

She smiled up at him.

He smiled back, "Yvette."  
>"Yes?"<p>

"Ich liebe dich." He kissed her forehead.

The bus came and they boarded.

When they sat down, she gave him a strange look, "What does that mean?"

"You'll find out one day."

The entire ride back to the stop they had boarded Yvette tried to guess what 'Ich liebe dich' meant. She couldn't figure it, though.

Back at home, she did a nose dive onto her bed. She was exhausted. Murphy stood in the doorway for a moment and just watched her. Taking in a deep breath he took off his boots and crawled onto the bed beside her.

She turned to look at him and smiled through the hair over her face.

Murphy tucked the hair back behind her ear and kissed her.

The two of them fell asleep on top of the blankets five minutes later.

**A/N This chapter goes to Penelope Sweet. She has reviewed and let me know at least one person is reading this. Thanks Sweet. You rock :D**


	11. New Life Begins at the End of the Old

**A/N Because I was yelled at to write another chapter, I had to get right to work. You, Penelope Sweet, are my most demanding fan ever. Thank darlin'. Also, Norman Reedus (our beloved Murphy) is HOT as a blond. Makes you think of that scene in BDS2. "What do you mean blonde! Like California surfer boy? Like **_**gay gay gay?**_**" The good times.**

**Chapter Eleven: New Life Begins at the End of the Old One**

Murphy woke up and took in a deep breath. The sun was coming in over the horizon and shining into the bedroom. Glancing down he saw Yvette curled up like a cat by his side. He gave a little smile. She looked beautiful. Her long blonde hair was splayed out around her, her toes were curling and uncurling the way a cat or dog's would when they dream. He watched as she stretched and rolled over. A little laugh passed his lips.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at him, "Morning."  
>He smiled, "You sleep like a cat."<p>

"You snore like a bull."

"I do not!"

"Like a drunken bull." She crawled out of bed and stretched. Taking off her shirt and tossing it in the hamper, she turned to him, "When do you go home?" He had already spent the last four days with her.

"Whenever I feel like it. Whenever you kick me out. Whenever you get tired of me."

Yvette crawled across the bed to him and kissed him, "I don't think I will get tired of you."

He pulled her down and rolled so he hovered above her, "Good." He kissed her softly and started to trail kisses down her neck.

As much as she would have loved to continue, they were interrupted as her home phone rang. She kissed him, "I have to answer that." Rolling out from beneath him, but in her attempt to leave he grabbed her and pulled her back down. She chuckled happily, "I have to answer the phone."

He kissed her neck, "They'll call back if it's important."

"Murphy…."

"Yvette…."

She chuckled as he kept kissed along her neck. When the phone stopped ringing, she laughed. It started ringing a second time. This time she tried a new method. Yvette wanted to see if he was ticklish. As it was, one little poke in the side made him bounce to the side. She jumped out of bed and stepped out of her side, "I win!"

"Only this time!"

Answering the phone she laughed, "Hello?"

"Where are you! You said you'd be here at eight! It's almost eleven! Têtue you promised!"

Yvette punched the wall, "Merde! I am so sorry! I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"You better be."

Yvette got the dial tone. She ran into her bedroom and got dressed as fast as she could, "I promised her I would be there! I can't believe I over slept!"

Murphy hopped up, "What do you mean?"

"She's got these fancy pants people who she hopes will rent stalls. I promised I would be there to really make her look good." She grabbed a bag and headed for the door, "I'll be back later." She ran out of the house and to the stables.

Murphy, confused but wanting to help, ran after her after getting dressed.

Yvette reached the stables breathless, "I'm sorry I'm late."

Aure shook her head, "They came and went. They didn't like my stables."

Yvette frowned, "Oh, Moineau, I am so sorry! I am really, really sorry."

"Yeah, well at least I know you're good for being late if not on time." That's when she saw the long haired and bearded man walk in. She looked at Yvette, "It that him?"

Yvette looked over her shoulder at Murphy. She nodded to her friend, "Yes, this is Murphy."

"He's why you're late. It's his fault, isn't it?" She glared at the man, "Isn't it!"

Murphy stayed silent for fear of worsening what would happen next.

Yvette sighed, "It's my fault. I over slept."

"Yeah, you were probably real tired after having banged him all night long."

"That's not what happened! I told you! I over slept!"

Aure glared at the both of them, "Get out."

"What?"

"Get out!" She glared at Murphy, "I thought you would be good for her. I thought you, you with your letters and that pretty necklace, would be the one to pull Yvette out of a dull reality and give you more. Well thanks for nothing asshole! Get out! Both of you!" She turned to Yvette, "I want your fucking mare out of my stables by the end of the month. I've put up with that bitch for years only because you're my friend. Well, now you can just fuck off! When I needed you, you weren't there for me! They asked for you! I told them one of my costumers would be here to vouch for me and you weren't fucking here! Get out!"

She threw a horseshoe at Yvette. The horseshoe was once a gift from the blonde. She had given it to her friend to give luck to her stables. Now, the gift had been regifted with cruel intent. The semi-circular hunk of metal hit Yvette square on the forehead.

The blonde clutched her head, "Putain!" Yvette stumbled out of the barn feeling disorientated from the blow.

Murphy followed her, "What the hell happened back there?"

Yvette, teary eyed from the pain in her head, said, "Aure always had the worst temper. No one has ever crossed her and still been her friend. Except me. That ex I told you about, yeah, he was her boyfriend first. I promised I wouldn't go with him, but he started it! She forgave me after having her gelding kick me and two years of silence. It's my fault she's out four-hundred-eighty thousand euro a year! That woman would have paid serious money for the stalls."

When the arrived back at the house she went to the kitchen for ice.

Murphy sat down at the table. It really was his fault…Had he not been there, she would have woken up on time and she would have been there for Aure. He looked at her, "I'm sorry."

"It's not you're fault, Murphy, it's my own. I woke up at seven and just forgot."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"As I was told. Bibiane will be in a new stable by the end of the month." She sat down at the table and pressed the icepack to her forehead with a grimace. "She's tiny, but and really throw shit. Any harder and I'm sure she would have knocked me out or broken the skin or something." She sighed, "I've known her for twenty-three years…I really fucked up."

Murphy sighed and got up. Rummaging through her cabinets, he found a small bottle of rum. He frowned. He didn't like rum much. Oh well. Grabbing to short glasses he sat down with her and poured her some, "Drink up." He poured his own glass and down it.

Yvette downed the drink.

"Know any stables?"

"Nope. I'll have to move to where they are. Aure's was the closest and since I was her friend, she offered me a stall for half price. Now I'll have to find somewhere else at neck breaking prices."

They sat in silence for a few minutes enjoying their drinks.

He looked at her. How helpless she seemed just then. How she needed someone to help her and make the problems go away. Then it came to him. "Yvette, you asked me what 'ich liebe dich' meant and I wouldn't tell you."

"Because you're an ass…" She downed another drink.

He nodded, "Most of the time, yes. Ich liebe dich is German for…" He took a breath, "It's German for 'I love you.' I love you, Yvette."

She was about to take a sip of her drink when he said that. Putting the glass down, she smiled, "Murphy."

"Yes?"

She leaned over and kissed him, "Je t'aime de tout mon cœur."

He kissed her back. There was no lying about it or trying to reason around it. He, too, loved her with all his heart. He slapped the table, "I'm not leaving unless you come with me, or I'm staying."  
>She shook her head, "No, Murphy. Noah and Connor need you more than I do. You have to go home."<p>

"Fine, then come with me."

Now she drank her drink. With a sigh she said, "I…I don't know…I don't know a word in Gaelic and my English isn't good enough."  
>He scoffed, "You're English is better than you think, that is usually enough to get one by."<br>She looked at him, "I don't want to impose on you guys."

"You won't! Da loves you, thinks you're a gem. Connor tolerates you more than you tolerate him."

"Still don't like that he called my people Frogs."

"You called him a Potato Head."

"True."

Murphy smiled at her, "Just think, you could ride Bibiane every single day with us. You wouldn't have to pay for her stall. You could do what you wanted."

She thought for a few good, long minutes. He made excellent points. She chuckled, "Don't you think the boys would go a little crazy with a pretty thing like Bibiane in their stables?"

"Aye, but Connor and I ride geldings. Karman is the only stud."

She nodded for a minute. Of course, there was only one thing keeping her from saying yes. "My parents."

"What about them?"

She looked at him with hard eyes, "I like visiting them every Christmas. Here to Normandy is cheaper than Ireland to Normandy."

Murphy only looked at her.

Finally she slammed her glass down, "Fuck it! Aure was right! I'm in a dull reality here. I need something new. I'll settle everything out and go with you." She sat the ice down.

Murphy winced, "Your head looks like shit."

"Well so does your face."

"Ouch."

Yvette stood and gave him a little smile, "If I were you, I'd find a way to tell Noah and Connor that I wouldn't be coming home alone."

"I could surprise them."

"Connor would hit you."

"Da would hug you."

She smiled, "This I know." She got fresh ice and put it to her head, "Did she have to throw the horseshoe?"

Murphy stood and walked over to her. Moving the icepack he kissed the large bruising bump. "You'll live."

"I'll die if you don't do that again."

He chuckled and kissed the bump twice more. "There you go."

She gave him a kiss, "Thank you." There was a little tear in her eye, "For everything."

He leaned his forehead against hers and was about to kiss her when she shoved him away.

"Ow you ass!"

He covered his mouth trying not to laugh, "I'm sorry!" And so he laughed.

Yvette glared at him and smacking his arm, "You're an ass…."

One week later she had everything ready to go. She would keep her little cottage and rent it out. Bibiane would be moved in a few days. She packed her clothes and photos, everything else she sold. With a tearful phone call she told her parents she was leaving for Ireland to be with Murphy. She also told them about Aure. They agreed with her 'putain' comment. Everything was set for her to being her new life in Ireland. All she had to do now was board a plane with Murphy. Soon her new life would begin.

**A/N This one goes to Willem Dafoe. I'm watched Boondock Saints right now and my all time favorite line of his is "Oh really? I might just be wantin' a bagel with my coffee." Poor Greenly :D**


	12. Snow Angels

**A/N Chugga chugga choo choo, this train is going full speed! So how sexy is it when SPF says 'You best be right with your Jesus boy'? I swear that voice right then is all sorts of yummy**

**Chapter Twelve: Snow Angels**

Murphy and Connor stood at the back door watching Yvette. They had woken up to falling snow on a morning in mid January. The damnedest thing happened to. Murphy woke up alone. When the boys got out of bed, the found their father sitting by a fire as always eating breakfast. Upon inquiring where the Frenchwoman was, the old man simply nodded to the back door. The twins moved and stepped outside. In the field to the rear of the cottage they watched as Yvette walked through the already ankle-deep snow. She wasn't alone though. She had taken Bibiane out of her stall and the mare walked with her in the snow. Yvette was adorned in Murphy's sweater, which she had stolen back. White flakes of snow could be seen catching in her hair and on the sweater. Stopping, she hugged the neck of her darling Bibiane.

Connor looked to his brother, "So…She's de real deal, eh?"

"I told y'already."

"Well the more yah say et, de more I believe et. I never tought yew'd actually find a girl, man. Yeah, yah tended to be more…romantic an' shit…but ye never really seemed to pursue." He leaned against the wall and lit a self-rolled cigarette.

Murphy nodded, "Aye, she's de real deal."

"Yah love her?"

"Aye."

Connor smirked, "Well at least now I'm certain y'aren't gay!"

"Oh fuck yew!"

The hazel eyed twin laughed, "Oh, so y'are gay! And into incest! Man dat's just nasty!"

Murphy growled and tackled his brother into the snow. The twins rolled around trying to over come the other for a good few minutes.

Yvette looked at Bibiane, "Why do I love him?" The mare responded with a nudge to her "mama's" arm. She smiled and rubbed the mare's nose, "You're a smart girl." She walked over to the writhing twins with Bibiane on her heels. She cleared her throat, "Uh, boys?"

The two stopped fighting and looked up at her. "Yeeees?"

She chuckled, "Connor, may I feenish for you 'ere?" Her English had indeed improved if not still heavily accented. She gave him a smile.

Connor shook his head, "No…but yew can help me win."

She smirked, "I'll take eet." She dropped to her knees and pinned down Murphy.

"Oh ye're a bitch, Yvette!"

With a laugh she held his hand down and smiled into his bearded face, "Oh zere, zere, my pet, you still love me."

"Like de fuckin' plague…"

She and Connor continued to torment the pinned man until Noah got to the door.

The elderly man shook his head, "Yew two torment thah poor boy. I expected Connor to have de troubles when she moved in, noh Murphy."

Yvette and Connor stood and wiped their hands off.  
>"Zat may be true, but sink aboot eet. Eef I didn' get along wit Connor, zis would no good. 'e and I get along, all ees well."<p>

Murphy stood and shoved his brother and looked at Yvette. She gave him a little pout and bat her lashes, "You wouldn't 'urt leetle ol' me, n'est pas?"

"Y'are a damn temptress." He kissed her, "But I love yew."

Bibiane, feeling rather left out, gave a little whinny and nudged her way into the group.

Noah rubbed her nose, "Hey dere girl." She blew a breath into his hands.

Yvette kissed the mare's nose and told her to run along in French. She gave Murphy another kiss before walking back off to play in the snow with her horse.

Connor smirked, "I'll bet yew fifty she trows a snowball at de mare."

"No, Yvette wouldn't trow someting at her baby….Ye're on."

Murphy lost.

Yvette picked up a handful of snow and tossed it at the mare's rump. Bibiane bucked a little and started to chase Yvette around playfully. The two women ran around the snow covered field until the blonde tumbled to the ground. She laughed out happily as she laid in the snow. Beside her Bibiane rolled around in the snow.

"Dat mare is a fuckin' yearling a' heart, man."

Murphy nodded, "Aye, she is. I never seen so playful a horse."

Yvette sat up and turned to Bibiane. Switching from English to French, she told the horse, "Like we practiced. Fetch Murphy." She nodded at the horse and made eye contact, "Fetch Murphy."

Bibiane stood and trotted over to the men. Shaking her head she gently grabbed a mouthful of his jacket and walked backwards towards Yvette.

The blonde smile smiled, "Good girl, Bibiane."

The mare stopped and released Murphy's shirt when she had brought the man to her mama.

Murphy sat down beside Yvette, "When did yah teach her thah trick?"

Yvette smiled and tossed a handful of loose snow at him, "Bibiane ees smart. I show 'er what to do, an' she pick up real quick." She laid back in the snow and made a snow angel. She chuckled, "I olways feel tree agin when eet snows. I love ze snow."

He smiled at her and gave her a kiss, "Ye're my snow angel."

"'ow poetic."

He pulled at the sweater, "When do I get dis back?"

"Never. Eet's mine now." She smiled, "I'll trade you for eet."

"Whaddya got?"

"You can 'ave me, eef I can 'ave ze sweater."

Murphy smirked, "I'm gettin' de better deal." He kissed her softly.

**That Evening**

Murphy and Connor were sitting in front of the fire. Yvette had just giving Murphy a kiss and Connor a half-hug before bidding them good night. Now the boys sat staring into the flames. Six and a half years since they had been the Saints…Six and a half. Connor wasn't the one thinking about it, though, he was thinking about the regular thoughts of a sheep farmer. No, it was Murphy who was thinking about the Saints. He wondered if he should ever tell Yvette. Would he be lying if he didn't? Technically he had already lied about the burn on his upper arm, thus lying about the Saints. She had only been a friend then, now she was his love. Not telling her could be bad…if she found out. How could she ever find out? He and Connor never spoke about it. These were the thoughts that went through his mind. If…when…yes…no…All about the Saints and telling Yvette.

Yes. He would tell her. One day. Not for a while. One day he would tell her, and he knew exactly when that day would be. Perhaps not the exact day, but if he ever did, it would be the deciding factor. If she accepted his past, then she truly would be the one. If she didn't, he couldn't foresee it continuing.

Murphy stared into the fire. The fire light reflected off his blue eyes. The man looked far more serious than the word itself described. He was focused so intently on his thoughts that the fire burning within him was far greater than the first burning in the fireplace.

Connor looked over at his brother. He could not tell what he was thinking, but he could tell it was a thought that was not to be interrupted.

Suddenly the thoughtful man stood, "Night." He went to the spare room, which had turned into his and Yvette's room. When he walked in he saw her sleeping in their bed on the left side. Her side. Taking off his boots and shirt, he crawled in besides her trying his best not to wake her. He moved incredibly slow, achingly slow.

"Stop trying not to wake me. I woke up with you opened the door." She opened her eyes and stared at him as he lay down. She laid on her right side and he on his left.

Murphy didn't say a word. He only pulled her to him and held her close.

Yvette kissed his chest, "Good night."

"Good night."

**A/N Chapter dedication: This one goes out to a guy SPF spoke of in an interview. This man had the entire Boondock Saints Prayer tattooed on his back…..in Klingon! That man is geek-squared. He is also my hero!**

**A/N 2.0 Have you any idea how much difficulty I had bouncing between an Irish accent and a French accent? So very hard for me…I know an Irish accent well, I've written stories with Irish people before. This is the first one with a French character. Though I know French, the French accent is a bitch.**


	13. Saints in Springtime

**A/N So far I'm up to ten movies on Netflix with Norman Reedus. I find I love his style of acting. There's something about it that sets him apart in my mind. Next actor? SPF. Also! I'm typing their accents thickly because they had indeed been in Ireland for enough time to it thicken back up. **

**Chapter Thirteen: Saints in Springtime**

Yvette sat in the middle of the field behind the cottage. Spring was here. All the snow from the winter was gone, the sun was warming up, and the green of the field was brilliant and new. Dotting the field were small wildflowers, throwing random spots of red, blue, yellow, and pink across the lay of the land. Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and laid back into the soft grass. Looking up at the sky she took her time trying to find pictures in the clouds. A smile spread across her face. One of the clouds looked like a mouse, one like a flower. Yvette had adjusted well to her new life in Ireland. Her English has improved because the boys refused to use French. She _had_ to learn. Whenever they went, Yvette went to church with the boys. She liked the Catholic faith. Strangely enough her first initial attraction was the rosaries. She found them beautiful. Now she even considered herself a sort of Catholic in Training. She liked it. Rolling over in the grass she plucked a little red flower. After twirling it in her hands for a moment, she entwined the flower into her braid.

The boys were working, of course. She would always pick and chose when she would go out with them to the sheep. That day she found the grass too inviting.

"What are ye doin', lass?"

Rolling back over, Yvette smiled up at Noah. She plucked another flower, "I am enjoying ze day." She sat up and patted the ground beside her, "Join me."

Noah chuckled and sat down beside her with a little groan, "I'm too old for dis." He took the little flower she was offering him. He gave it a little smell. "Y'always surprise me."

She ran her hands through the grass and flopped back down onto her back, "'ow so?"

He looked across the field and took in the sight, "Y'always seem ta look at tings trough new eyes."

"Well I've never seen Ireland in spring. Summer, autumn, and winter, yes, but spring is new for me." She smiled and looked up into the sky, "Spring 'as olways been my favorite season and Ireland wears eet well."

Noah was about to say something when the sound of hooves assailed their ears. The two of them looked to the left and soon enough they could see two men on horses coming over the hill. Yvette hopped up and offered her hands to Noah, "Come on."

He took her hands and she helped him to his feet.

Connor and Murphy dismounted as they got closer to the duo.

"And what have yew two been doin'?"

Yvette smiled at the brothers, "Enjoying ze spring day."

Murphy patted his fathers back, "Careful, Da, it looked like ye had some problems getting' up for a minute dere."

Noah rolled his eyes, "Yew boys are goin' ta put me en an early grave." He walked back to the house laughing.

Connor bowed his head to Yvette and followed Noah.

Murphy took her hand and pulled her close to him, "So yew like Ireland in spring?"

"Eet 'as olways been my favorite season. As I told your Papa, Ireland wears eet very, very well." She smiled up at him, "Sank you for bringing 'ere. In ze last eight monts I 'ave fallen very much in love wit Ireland."

He kissed her, "And I am fallin' more in love wit yew."

"Murphy." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. His beard tickled. It always tickled. She liked the feel of it. When she pulled away she tried to see what he looked like without all the hair. She found it the most difficult thing to picture.

"What are yew lookin' at?"

"I'm trying to see what you look like wizzout ze 'air." She chuckled. "I can't do eet." She sat back down on the soft green grass and plucked another flower, "Seet wit me, Murphy. Enjoy ze day."

He didn't have to be told or asked twice. The man sat beside her. He looked at her as she played with the grass and the occasional flower. How innocent…She seemed so very innocent and sweet. He had known her when she was angry enough to break things, sad enough to cry rivers, happy enough to light the darkness with only a smile and she was always beautiful. Always. Now. Now was the time. "Yvette dere es someting I need ta tell yew."

She looked at him. His voice…it had changed. No longer was he seeing the beauty of nature around him. He was somewhere in his own mind, and it wasn't a good part of his mind. "What's wrong?"

"What if I told yew I've done tings, bad tings ta bad people."  
>"To ze bad people?"<p>

"Aye."

"What did you do?" She put a hand over his. "Tell me."

Murphy didn't look at her. He couldn't tell her a word of his past if he was looking into those eyes. Taking a breath he began, "When Connor an' I lived en America we had a pretty decent life. Steady job workin' en a meat plant, friends, a bar two steps from our apartment. Well, one night these Russian mob guys came into McGinty's, the bar. It was St. Patty's an' we were all havin' fun. These Russians wanted us out an' were bein' rude. It all ended in a bar fight which Connor an' I won wit de help of friends. De next day de Russians burst into our apartment for more. Dey would have killed me, but Connor got to 'em first. It was self defense, no crime pinned to us."

Yvette gave his hand a little squeeze, "Murphy, why ees zis so bad?"

"I'm not finished…Connor an' I decided to keep goin'. Destroy all that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish. We did. Connor an' I killed nine Russian bosses. We killed Italian hit men." He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the burn. "I lied at first about this. It happened en a firefight. Connor, Rocco, a good friend, an' I had just finished wit dese guys and someone was waitin' fer us. I got et ta the arm, Connor ta de leg, an' Rocco got his pinky shot off. Something really funny, the guy was Da. We didn't know et then, but et was him." He chuckled, "Thah was a fun conversation ta have later."

"Your Papa shot you?"

"Yeah, but we shot back. Tit fer tat." He closed his eyes, "We tried, Connor, Rocco, an' I, tried ta get dis Italian don. We failed. Rocco was killed in de attempt."

She squeezed his hand.

"Dat's when we learned de man who tried ta kill us was our da. Fun times, fun times…" He took in a deep breath, "Tree months later we burst into open court an' killed the mother fucker who killed Rocco. Dat was a few months shy of seven years ago."

Yvette was stunned into silence. Her lover was a murderer…but… "You only keeled ze bad men?"

"Aye."

She turned him to face her, but he kept his eyes down, "Murphy, look at me."

His eyes shot up and looked into her.

Yvette kissed him, "I love you. You're past is your past. Everyone 'as zere secrets." She kissed him again, "I 'ave mine too. Did I ever tell you why I left Normandy?"

"I tought it was for school."

She shook her head, "No. I left because, though I love my family, I 'ated them so. I 'ated Evreux, I 'ated Normandy, I was growing to 'ate France. So I left. I moved to where I 'ad a friend and started a new life. You see, my doting mozer, she never gave me space and treated me as a child, olways as a child. My papa, 'e ignored me. Eet wasn't until I ledt did zey realize 'ow important I was to zem. Nice, eh?" She sighed, "I love zem, but I used to 'ate them so much." She kissed him softly, "Murphy, everyone 'as zeir past. Eet makes us 'o (who) we are." She kissed him again, "Eet's not like you 'eld up a bank and shot innocent men and women. Eet's not like you sold drugs and shot a drugie 'o could not day. You were not a thief 'o would do anysing for money. You took the lives of men 'o 'ad taken the lives of ozers. You are not a bad person."

Murphy had never heard her speak ill of her family or her home. She had always seemed like the child of a perfect home and a happy life. Boy was he wrong. He kissed her. She had not only understood, but made it seem like everything he had done was worthy of a medal. Thinking about it he realized he had gotten a medal. When you did good things, you got good things in return. He did good things by doing bad things, but he still did good. The good thing he got in return was Yvette.

Pulling back from the kiss, he smiled at her, "Yvette…"

She smiled, "Yes?"

God where was his tongue? He couldn't seem to find it in his mouth. Clearing his throat he said, "I love you."

She smiled and gave a little laugh. Running a hand through his hand she gave him a quick little kiss, "I love you too."

It was like his tongue had been chopped out. He couldn't get what he really, really wanted to say out. He swallowed hard. How was he going to say it? How could he even begin? Where the fuck was his tongue!

She gave him a confused look, "Murphy, are youoalright?"

He nodded as he kept trying to find his tongue. Ah! There it is! Wait…now his tongue felt dry. He'd never be able to get it out. Swallowing hard again he looked her in the eye. Those brown eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes of hers. He took a few deeps breaths.

"Murphy…are you sure you're olright?"

He nodded again. Taking one last deep breath he finally got the words out, "Willyoumarryme?"

"What? Say again?"

Murphy took his time the second go round, "Yvette I love you…Will you marry me?"

She was stunned for a second time into silence. Sitting there she just stared at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Was she even breathing?

"Yvette?" He had started to feel like the question was ill placed.

And then he realized that was a stupid thought. Why? Because Yvette tackled him to the ground and kissed him fiercely.

He smiled at her, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" She kissed him again, "Oh a sousand times yes!" She kissed him again and again.

Connor was looking out a window at the two, "What do yew suppose they're talkin' about?"

"Thah doesn't look like talkin'."

"Well I mean before."

Noah looked at the two, then to Connor, "He didn't tell yew?"

"Tell me whah?"

Noah took in a breath, "So he didn't." He slapped his brother on the back, "My guess is thah he finally asked her."

That's when Connor realized what his father was talking about. He raised a brow, "So I get a sister, eh?"

"If he did ask."

The younger nodded. Yvette was cool. They had really started getting along so maybe this wasn't as terrible as he thought. Anyway, now he definitely had someone to gang up on Murphy with. That's when he liked her best. She had a knack for holding him down just right. Oh of course Murphy hated it, but hey, he'll get over it!

That night at the dinner table Murphy informed his brother and father that Yvette would really be part of the family.

Noah snorted, "Boy, she's been part o' this family for nearly two years."

Yvette just gave a little chuckle and smiled as her future father and brother-in-law.

**A/N This one goes out to my new friend, Penelope Sweet. For those reading this, you should check out her BDS story "And Shepherds We Shall Be." It's excellent!**


	14. Meeting the InLaws

**A/N –sing song voice - Tu-a-ru-a-lu-rah! Love Greenly! Anyway, on we fly!**

**Chapter Fourteen: Meeting the In-Laws**

Yvette was sitting on the bench. She was trembling with anxiety to the point she could throw up. She kept staring at the gate waiting for them to get there. They were already a half hour late.

Noah was sitting beside Yvette. It had been five months since Murphy proposed and the wedding was in two weeks. He watched as she trembled. Giving her knee a pat, he said, "Don't worry. I'm sure dey are only delayed."

"Zat's not why I'm worried…"

"What es et then?"

Yvette gave him a very guilty-enough-for-hell look, "Well…I convinced zem to come for a visit…I never told zem why. I did tell zem to bring really nice cloze in case…Zey 'ave no idea."

"Yer parents don't know ye're getting married?"

She was spinning the engagement ring on her finger. Murphy had gotten it not long after he asked. It was a traditional Claddagh ring. The tip of the heart pointed to her fingertip signaling her engagement. At the wedding she would take it off for him to put it back on, tip to wrist, and for her place a ring on his own finger. She shook her head, "Nope. I didn't tell zem."

"Why not, Yvette?"

She put her head in her hands, "I wos scared. I don't care eef zey approve of 'im, but I just couldn't say eet."

_"Flight 743 from Paris, France has landed."_

"Fuck."

Noah raised a brow. Yvette cursed, but it was still amusing to hear such an awful word come from such a sweet creature. He patted her back, "Don't worry. Dey will like him."

"Papa olready does…but I sink zey may be opset because I left France wit 'im."

"Dey can git over et."

She chuckled.

"Yvette?"

The blonde's head snapped up. Her parents were standing ten feet away from where she and Noah sat. She smiled, "Maman, Papa." Standing she gave them each a hug.

Alain looked at the wizened old man on the bench, "Qui est-ce?"

Yvette smiled, "Maman, Papa, this is Noah MacManus, Murphy's father."

Marguerite shook his hand and asked if he spoke French.

The man shook his head.

Yvette quickly let them know she would translate.

Noah held out a hand for each of them to shake, "Pleasure ta meet you. Yvette always says wonderful things." She translated.

Marguerite smiled, "My an e is Marguerite, my husband Alain. It is our pleasure. She told me many good things about your son. Alain as well. He says Murphy is a very funny young man."

As the four of them walked out of the airport and to the small cab waiting, Yvette got a headache from the translating. Now she understood what it felt like when Murphy or Connor had to translate for her before she undertook the learning of English.

When the cab stopped they were four miles from the cottage and in a little town. They stepped into a little inn and she set up a room for her parents. She explained that the MacManus family didn't live in the town, but a couple miles away and that the cottage was just too small for the Devereux's to stay with them. Alain wasn't happy, especially since their translator wouldn't be there.

Yvette turned to Noah, "You go a'ead." She took in a breath, "I'm going to tell zem."

Noah gave her a kiss on the forehead, "Good luck." He walked away.

Yvette took her parents to the room the innkeeper indicated. The couple set their bags down and sat on the bed. Their daughter sat across from them. She smiled at them sweetly, "Maman, Papa…I need to tell you something…"

Alain jumped to conclusions, "Jesus le Christ! Tu es enceinte!"  
>Yvette hook her head furiously, "No, no, no! Papa I'm not pregnant."<p>

He sighed, "Oh good."

Marguerite smiled at her, "What is it, then? What do you have to tell us."  
>She took a breath, "I told you to come and visit and meet them not because I just wanted to you…but…well…" She was fiddling with the ring on her hand again.<p>

"Yvette, what is that?"

She smiled and held up her hand, "An engagement ring."

Marguerite screamed…happily. She jumped up and hugged her daughter, "Oh my darling Yvette is getting married! Oh is that why you wanted us to come? For an engagement party?"

"No…I wanted you to come to be part of the bridal party. The wedding is in two weeks."

Alain stared his daughter down, "How long have you two been engaged?"

"Five months."

"Five months!" Marguerite's jaw was on the floor, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was scared you would be disappointed in me. You know, meeting this guy and falling for him, then leaving my home for him and suddenly being engaged all in two years. I thought you would think I was moving too fast or something."

Alain stood and brought his daughter to her feet. "Yvette. He told me he loved you when I met him. I was actually surprised when he didn't ask for your hand or something then and there." He kissed her cheek, "I'll be there to walk you down the aisle."

She looked at her mother, "Are you mad, Maman?"

"I'm very angry that you didn't tell us sooner, however, if you are my daughter, you are walking down that aisle and marrying him no matter what I say. I know I did." Marguerite smiled, "I'll be there." She was reminded of her own wedding. Hell, Marguerite's father wouldn't even show up. Alain's father walked her down the aisle instead.

Yvette hugged her mother and father, "Good. Now tonight we're all having dinner at Gallagher's down the street. Be there at six. I'm going to run home and make sure everyone is all set. Don't worry about dressing up; it's a very laid back place." She kissed their cheeks, "I'll see you in a few hours."

The two nodded and kissed their daughter before she left.

**A Few Minutes Before Six PM**

Yvette, Murphy, Connor, and Noah stepped into Gallagher's. The boys had taken the liberty to at least trim their hair and beards of the scraggly ends. Now they looked like well-trimmed scruffy men, instead of just plain scruffy men.

A young woman the same age as Yvette smiled as they walked in, "Yvette!"

The blonde smiled at the deep brunette. The woman was full-figured and had a sweet, rosy face with dancing green eyes. Yvette gave the girl a hug, "Laoise." The girl had become Yvette's friend soon after her moving to Ireland. She even helped the Frenchwoman with her English. Yvette smiled, "'ave you seen two folks come in? Zey are probably looking for me."

Laoise pointed to a six-seater table where Marguerite and Alain were sitting quietly with drinks in front of them. She chuckled, "Dey came en an' all dey could say was 'Yvette' an' 'MacManus', which they pronounced 'Mec-mon-oos.' I sat dem down an' gave dem each a free drink. Dey'll need et ef dey're meetin' Murph an' Connor tonight."

"Ah shut it, Laoise!" Connor gave her a playful shove.

Yvette thanked her friend and lead the three men to the table. Alain and Marguerite stood as the four approached. I quick French, Yvette introduced Murphy, her fiancé, Connor, his brother, and they had already met Noah.

Connor and Murphy impressed her mother with their French.

Murphy gave the woman a nod, "I see where Yvette gets her eyes. They're beautiful."

Alain gave Murphy a shove, "Don't hit on my wife!" He was chuckling.

Marguerite blushed and turned to Yvette with a whisper, "He is a charmer."

"Oui, Maman."

Noah said something. Connor looked at her parents and translated, "So what do you think of these two? Personally, Yvette's an alright girl. She seems right for Murphy."

Alain chuckled, "I met Murphy when he visited her in France. Now, no offense, but I never wanted my girl to marry outside of the French. I'm very proud about the purity of my blood…but I've never met anyone more right for her than your Murphy."

After a translation the three parents smiled.

The six sat there for the next two hours talking and getting to know one another. There was, of course, story time. With Murphy, Connor, and Yvette translating the whole time, the stories flew across the table.

"When Yvette was seven years old she was invited to a pool party."

"No Papa! Please don't tell them that one!"

"And there they all are, swimming about happily. They get called in for lunch and Yvette, being stubborn as she is, doesn't wait however long. Instead, she dives right back into the pool. Well, we aren't sure exactly how it happened, but when she came up the poor girl spewed her lunch right into the pool. Ruined the party."

Yvette covered her reddening face, "Papa!"

Connor laughed, "I've got a good one about Murphy."

"Don't you dare, brother."

"Oh, I dare! When we were young we visited our uncle for a summer. This fucker thought he was going to get on our uncle's horse and try to ride it around. Oh no, he couldn't even get on the horse's back. The thing kept bucking him off. In the end, Murphy here ends up with a broken foot after he gets stepped on. Got heart though, after his foot gets bandaged up he goes back out toe the barn and tries again!"

Marguerite patted Murphy's hand, "You've got spirit, but I think the horse won."

Murphy and Yvette looked at each other with the never-should-have-introduced-them face. The rest of the night was spent trading stories and seeing who could embarrass Yvette or Murphy the most.

At the end of the night, Marguerite gave the boys each a kiss on the cheek.

Alain pulled Murphy to the side, "I'm a small man and not in good health, but believe you me, you make her cry and they aren't tears of joy, I will kill you."

Murphy looked down at the little man. Something in him told him that the Frenchman wasn't lying. He nodded, "Aye sir. I'll treat her right."

"Good. Also, you knock her up and it's a boy, try and convince her to toss 'Alain' into the babe's name."

Murphy laughed and nodded, "Aye sir." When the French couple made their way back to the inn, Alain's words hit Murphy like a sack of bricks. The thought of kids had never crossed his mind. Shrugging it off for the present, he decided he'd just talk to Yvette about it later. She herself had never made a mention of children either.

The four returned to the little cottage. In bed, Murphy toyed with a lock of her hair, "Yer Da said someting."  
>She smiled, "What did 'e say?"<p>

He gave her a kiss, "If you ever have a boy, to throw his name in there somewhere."

She sat up, "So…My Papa is sinking aboot grandkeeds? Jesus…I don't even sink aboot it!"

Murphy chuckled, "Whatever happens, happens."

She smiled and nodded, "Oui."

They fell asleep as they did every single night. Both were lying on their left sides. Yvette held his hand in her own while also using his left arm as a pillow. It never failed. They could truly fall asleep in any position, but they would always awake just like that.

That night Yvette dreamed a dream she wish she hadn't. She and Murphy were standing in the rain. He was leaving. He was leaving her there alone.

When Yvette woke up she turned to look at the sleeping form of Murphy. No…he would never do that…Never.

**A/N Or would he? Premonition? Or just a bad dream one can chalk up to pre-wedding jitters? Either way, this chapter goes out to Netflix! Yay for Metflix! They have all but some of the more recent Reedus movies. Soon enough I'll be on the SPF kick. Wish me luck!**


	15. All Thanks to Rain

**A/N –insert usual witty/funny author's note here— **

**Chapter Fifteen: All Thanks to Rain**

Yvette sat perfectly still in the chair. She was in a front room of the church. Marguerite sat on a stool in front of her daughter doing her makeup. She smiled, "I don't know why you have me putting this on you. You're beautiful without it." She placed a gentle hand on her daughter's cheek, "He's a lucky man, Yvette. I've been your Maman for almost twenty-nine years; I know that you'll be a good woman to him."

Putting a hand over her mother's, the woman smiled, "Merci, Maman, je t'aime pour tout les temps." Hugging her mother, she kissed the older woman's cheek.

Marguerite stood and started combing out Yvette's long hair. She braided the long hair from the crown and spun it around itself. With a skilled hand she used only one pin to hold the braided bun up. She left a length hanging down unbraided. At the top of the bun she pinned on Yvette's veil. Finally she stepped across the room to grab Yvette's gown. She made a face, "I wish you would have told me sooner. I'd have liked it if you got married in my dress."  
>Yvette smiled and nodded, "I know, Maman."<p>

Mother helped daughter into the dress, then shoes.

"I feel naked…" Yvette was looking down at her left hand. The Claddagh ring had been taken so he could regive it to her, tip of the heart to her wrist.

Marguerite smiled, "That proves you were always meant to be married. I feel naked when I take off my ring just to do the dishes." She zipped up the back of the dress. For the final touch she tied the horseshoe necklace around Yvette's neck. Standing back she put a hand to her mouth, "Oh, Yvette, you look beautiful."

The blonde looked into the mirror and her pulse began to race. Soon she would no longer be Yvette Devereux, but Yvette MacManus.

Just then her father knocked on the door, "Yvette? Are you ready?"

"She's ready."

Alain stepped into the room and looked as though he was seeing Marguerite thirty-two years ago. He smiled, "If you were a brunette, you could be your mother. Before you were born I always wanted a boy, but you are more than anything I could have ever wished for."

She teared up a little and dabbed at her eyes, "Papa." She hugged her father close and kissed his cheek, "I love you, Papa."

He nodded, "Right. Now there is a young man waiting for you to walk down that aisle to him. Are you going to disappoint him?"

She shook her head, "No, Papa."

Marguerite kissed her daughter's cheek and left to take her seat.

Alain offer her his arm, "Shall we?" He led Yvette out to the double doors leading into the main hall. Smiling at her, he asked, "Are you ready to begin the rest of your life?"

Laoise handed her a bouquet of pale purple lilies. She kissed her friends cheek, "Just remember, de words are 'I do' yah say den when de priest asks."

Yvette took the bouquet and gave her friend a shove, "Shut eet!"

"Ye're even talkin' like 'em!"

Yvette simply blushed and as the music struck up she watched Laoise walk down the aisle as her Maid of Honor. Her only Bridesmaid. It was when the traditional wedding bridal march started up that Alain walked his only child down the aisle to give her away. Yvette smiled as they started the walk. There was Murphy, waiting for her. Connor was, of course, in his rightful spot as Best Man.

At the altar, Murphy stood there staring down to Yvette. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. She almost seemed to float towards him. Everyone else was gone in the world. It was just the two of them. His illusion was broken when in the distance the sound of thunder rolled. When he looked up and out one the windows he watched as the rain began to fall. He looked back to Yvette. She was now standing in front of him.

After kissing her father on the cheek, the older man took a few steps back.

"We are gathered here today to witness the joining of Murphy MacManus and Yve—" A loud thunder clap sounded directly over head and interrupted the priest. Clearing his throat he continued over the din of the rain, "Yvette Devereux."

Now, usually during a wedding the bride and groom are staring at each other. This wedding was not the case. While the priest spoke they both looked up and out a stained-glass window at the rain. The ceremony continued on and the two never looked away from the window.

The priest cleared his throat, "The couple has written their own vows. Now they will recite them. Murphy, you may go."

Murphy looked at Yvette who was smiling back at him, "Yvette, yew had my attention from de first time I ever met yew. Dat first day yew stayed wit' us an' rode out on de farm wit' us, I couldn't keep me eyes off of yew. For de first time en a long time me eyes had found someting worth lookin' at. Et was never just yer looks. Yew could look like a horse an' I wouldn't care. Et was yew as a person; yew who smart-mouthed me brother an' me. I had never met a girl like you before." He took a breath, "I tink I loved yew from de first time I ever met you. I will always love you."

The priest nodded. He looked to Yvette, "And you, Mademoiselle?"

Yvette was staring out the window again. She chuckled, "You know, I 'ad sought up zis beautiful, poetic speech vowing my love to you forever. I'm not saying any of what I wrote." She chuckled again, "No, what I'm going to say ees zis: Sank God for ze rain." She raised a hand to the window, "When I first met you an' your family, I 'ad to stay because of ze rain. I couldn't travel een sooch bad weather. Zat ees when I keessed you. The next soomer I came back to Ireland, but I got seeck because of ze rain. You 'elped me get better. Zen you refused to let me go again. You came to me in France. When I opened my door and saw you zere, I knew I loved you." She smiled and put a hand on his cheek, "Eef ze rain never fell, eef I never got sick, eef I never 'ad to stay, I never would 'ave fallen een love wit you." She chuckled, "Sank God for ze rain, yeah?"

The priest nodded, "And now dey will exchange rings. As they do, they will do as I say repeat after me. Murphy."

The man held up the ring.

"Love is endless and binding, much like how a ring is endless and bound around your finger. Murphy, if you will."

Murphy took Yvette's hand.

"With this ring, I three wed."

The look in Murphy's eyes sent trembles through Yvette's body as he repeated, "Wit' dis ring, I theh wed." He slipped the Claddagh back onto her left hand ring finger.

The priest nodded and turned to Yvette, "Yvette, if you will."

She held up the silver band.

"With this ring, I thee wed."

With a smile she took his left hand and slipped onto his own hand, "Wit' zis ring, I zee wed."

The priest smiled, "In de name of God I bless dis wedding. May the Lord always see yew wit' smiles on thy faces and happiness in thy hearts." He opened his arms, "Murphy, you may now kiss your beautiful bride."

To the applause of those witnessing the ceremony, the newly wedded couple kissed.

Taking her hand, Murphy walked with her back down the aisle. They stopped only a moment for Yvette to kiss her parents and Murphy to exchange a hug with his father and brother. Then they rejoined hands and made for the door. Outside the rain had slowed to a simple drizzle. The guests followed the couple out of the church and watched as they mounted their horses. Yvette sat astride Bibiane's back with the skirt of her dress pulled all the way to her hips.

Yvette laughed, and before spurring her Bibiane onward, she called to the group "'o sinks I can get to ze 'otel before 'im?"

Some of the guests cheered.

She smirked at her husband, "Race you zere, my love." She shouted and dug her heels into Bibiane's side. The mare sprung forward from beneath the awning that covered the horses from the rain.

Murphy laughed and gave chase on his own steed, "No yew don't!"

The guests laughed as they watched the newly married couple race off through the rain.

**A/N This chapter goes out to my very best friend (for the third time) Katy. She's always a bulldozer to the blockades on my Writing Road. Thank you Katy :D**


	16. The Calling

**A/N Sorry ladies, but Murphy is taken! Bawwhahaha! Well it took me forever to figure out the timeline, but I finally did it! Their official wedding date is 11/ 17/06. Alright, fair warning, this chapter has a few location changes and time-skips. Please don't kill me! And now we shall continue. Onward and upward!**

**Chapter Sixteen: The Calling**

Yvette stood on the balcony of the fancy hotel in the early morning light. They were staying at a nice resort for their honeymoon. She was leaning on the railing with a very content look on her face. She was wearing Murphy's sweater (again) and a pair of underwear. It was a rather chilly morning in late November, but she didn't feel the cold. She was still warm from her husband's touch. A small smile flitted across her lips at the thought of the word _husband_. They had been at the resort for five days and would be staying for another six. Yvette had insisted on a decently long honeymoon. She wouldn't be gypped of a plenty of time alone with just the two of them. Oh hell no. As she stood there looking out over the estate of the hotel, she smiled. There was an outdoor pool (obviously not in use), an indoor pool in what looked like a greenhouse for warmth, stables where Bibiane and Devlin (Murphy's horse, finally gave him a name) were kept, and just wide fields for walking and riding. She liked the place. Now, despite all the beauty of the estate, she and Murphy hadn't really left their suite. A tiny smile spread over her lips as she thought about exactly what they had spent their time doing over the last few days. Thinking back to the couple ex-boyfriends Yvette had, she dismissed the definition of sex they had put in her mind. Sex with Murphy was the best she'd ever had.

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and lips lightly touched her neck, "Its cold. Ye should put something warmer, Mrs. MacManus."

She smiled and leaned back into his arms, "Why? You're just going to take zem off later."

"Be dat as it may…"

She spun in his arms and kissed him softly. Pulling back she ran a light touch along his lips, "Cloze do seem onneeded, yeah?"

He kissed her fingers, her palm, her wrist. "Aye. We should do something about dat."

Yvette let out a delighted giggle as he lifted her bridal style and carried her back in from the balcony to the bed.

** Six Days Later**

Murphy and Yvette turned off the well worn dirt road onto the hardly touched dirt path leading to the MacManus cottage. The sun was just beginning to set as the couple rode up to the house. Though she had loved her week and a half of not doing anything except Murphy, she was glad to be home again. She had started to missed Noah and her smartass brother-in-law.

Connor was waiting out front for the two of them. He nodded, "Bout fuckin' time!"  
>Yvette dismounted and gave him a cheeky wink, "No, fucking time was last week." She hugged him and walked into the house.<p>

Murphy dismounted Devlin and gave his brother a little grin, "How was yer time wit'out us?" Holding the reigns he led the gelding and the mare back to the barn with Connor following.

"Fantastic." He snorted. "I'm surprised she can still walk straight. What all did ye do?"

Murphy unsaddled the horse and shoved it in his brother's hands, "We went ridin'." He smirked and took off Bibiane's saddle.

"Yeah, horses or each other?"

The married man laughed, "Both." He shook his head and gave his brother a smile, "And it wasn't even me half the toime! Et was 'er!"

Connor snickered and shook his head. There was Murphy, Good old Murphy. He raised a brow, "Bet yah twenty she's barfin' by the end of December." He said, laying a bet that Murphy would be a daddy in no time flat.

Murphy shook his head, "I dunno man. Something tells me ye're wrong."

"Then lay et down." He held out a hand for his brother to shake.

After a moment of thought, Murphy nodded, "Fine. Twenty that she bleeds right on time." And so they shook on it.

For the first time, Connor lost the bet with his brother. He usually won. This time, the unmarried twin lost a bet.

Murphy sat lounging on the front bench with a cigarette. He held out a hand, "Give it."

Connor pulled the cash out, "Ass." He handed the money over. "Y'used a condom, didn'cha?"

The man snorted, "Never have. Just lucky I s'pose."

Yvette stepped outside where the guys were. She smiled at them, "Evening boys." She leaned against one of the pillars. Leaning forward she snatched Murphy's cigarette. Taking a pull she blew it out her nose, "Betting on me again?"

Connor sniffed, "Maybe."

She looked at Murphy, "You win?"

"Aye."

She smiled, "Can I ask what aboot?"

Connor crossed his arms, "I bet you were knocked up."

Yvette laughed, "Sorry Connor. Started yesterday."

"Much to my dismay." He winked at his wife. Giving a yawn he stood, "I'm goin' ta bed." He gave Yvette a quick kiss before heading inside.

She smiled after him and looked at Connor, "So why would you bet zat I was knocked up? Do you want to be an oncle zat much?"

Connor took the seat Murphy had been sitting in, "Nah, I just wanna see 'is face whenever yah do have a bun in de oven."

Taking another pull off the cigarette, she blew it in his face, "I'll drop eet on 'im good an' 'ard, just for you." She laughed and stomped out the butt.

He laughed as she walked inside.

**Late April**

Yvette laid in bed beside her sleeping husband. The first five months of their marriage had been just like the five months of engagement and every month before while she lived with them. There was no routine. She truly did as she pleased. Some days she had ridden out with the boys, others she spent with Noah, on the occasion she would ride into town and see some of the friends she had made. Now she ran a finger along the cross tattooed on his arm. Quietly she got out of bed and pulled on her sweater. Murphy had lost it months before when she blatantly refused to give it back. Pulling on a pair of cotton pants she stepped out into the main room.

Noah was sitting there. He smiled at his daughter-in-law, "Good mornin', Yvette."

She sat in front of him at the little table, "Morning." It always made her smile when she understood what Noah was saying. Learning English was a very good thing. She looked towards the bedroom door she had just left from. A frown was on her face.

"What's wrong?"

She gave a little shiver, "Do ze boys seem…I don't know…different?"

"Aye." He nodded, "Peace, they say, is the enemy of memory. So it has been for my boys. As you know, for some time now their past has felt like a dream. Now, suddenly, its back."

Yvette sighed and leaned back into her chair, "Oui…" Sighing she ran a hand through her hair, "Ze days after 'e told me about ze Saints, 'e did seem off. Now…Zey are bos (both) sinking aboot eet. I worry."

Noah sighed, "I can feel it in their presence. Something is calling them back."

"I 'ope it 'angs oop ze phone."

The two simply nodded.

**Boston**

A short Italian man walked into the large Catholic Church. He was looking guiltier than a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar. The small man went into the confessional. On the other side of the screen came the voice of a priest, "It is late, my son."

"Forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin." Jumping up the short man burst from the booth. He kicked in the door and yanked the priest out by the collar.

"No! No! Oh dear God help me!"

The Italian put the priest on his knees. He placed the end of two guns to the back of the old man's head.

The priest clutched his rosary and prayed to God for help.

The man pulled the triggers.

Father McKinney fell onto the red carpet face first.

Otillio Panza reveled in his work. He rolled the priest over and crossed his arms. With a small smile on his face he placed a nice shiny penny on each eye of the priest. Taking one last look over his work, the tiny man ran out a back exit. Everything was in motion now. Soon enough the Saints would be back is the Old Man was right, then, not long after, Il Duce would return. He would draw them to the Old Man who would try to convince them to help him rise back in the ranks of the Mafia. Everything rested on his itty bitty shoulders.

**A/N This chapter I'm dedicating to me! I'm feeling smug and selfish for just a moment, so I'm taking my own chapter. Bawhahaha**


	17. No Kiss Goodbye

**A/N And so the real drama unfolds. Does it bother anyone else in BDS2 when Noah is working on the chair in '58 that the studs are uneven? Bothers the fuck outta me!**

**Chapter Seventeen: (No) Kiss Goodbye **

The four people by the last name MacManus sat the table eating their dinners. Murphy and Connor were staring at the grain of the wooden table. Yvette and Noah exchanged the occasional look. They knew what the boys were thinking of. She looked at Murphy, but he didn't look at her. She felt unsettled by this. There was a thick layer of tension hanging over the family with a nice icing layer of uncomfortable silence. It made her itch. Grabbing a slice of bread, she took a bite. Her appetite had escaped her and her mouth felt dry.

The sound of a honking horn sounded outside.

Noah, Connor, and Murphy stood and went to the door.

Yvette was planted. She could hear a door slam and the sound of feet splashing through puddles. A voice came through the open door and to her ears. "Someting's happened." Her body convulsed with trembles of fear. She stilled herself soon and watched the door. The three men she lived with walked in with a priest. She knew the priest, she had met him once before at the wedding, but couldn't remember his name.

Noah spoke up, "Yvette, my cousin, Father Sibeal MacManus." He motioned to Yvette, "This is my daughter-in-law, Yvette."

She looked at the priest and nodded.

The four men sat down.

The priest explained what happened.

Murphy looked at his relative, "Did they release a name?"

Father MacManus shook his head, "No, but I made some calls. McKinney, Father McKinney." He noted the looks on the boys' faces. "You knew him?"

Connor nodded, "Knew of him. Every body did. 'e was a good man. Held hostiles, soup kitchens."

"He even made it to the papers sometimes." Followed Murphy as he played with his fingers.

Father MacManus held up a hand, "Look, I think yew boys better just sit tight and wait until we can figure out what the—"

The boys stood and walked outside in a hurry.

"—hell is goin' on here."

The priest turned to his cousin, "Aren't yew goin' to try and talk them out of it? It's probably some guy just tryin' ta get away wit' murder."

Noah nodded, "Aye, but dere's a thousand easier ways of doin' dat." He took a breath, "You kill a _priest_, in a _church_, make it look like it was _dem_, you'll bring them back wit' a vengeance. Someone thinks it's real clever. Only one problem with their little plan."

The priest asked, "What's that?"

Yvette piped up for the first time, "It worked…"

In the barn the boys grabbed a shovel a piece. They found the spot and started digging. They worked at the hole for almost two hours. Finally they pulled out a chest covered in muck. Climbing out of the whole, the grabbed the chest and brought it to a table where they emptied its contents. They worked in total silence as they cleaned the guns they hadn't held for eight years. The boys worked diligently at their task.

Inside, Yvette had a trembling hand over her mouth.

Father MacManus patted her other hand that lay resting on the table, "Don't worry dear."

She stood, "No, of course not, nosing to worry aboot." She was mocking the priest. With one hand on her forehead, and the other on her stomach she said, "I'm gunna be seeck." She fled the room.

Noah raised a brow as they both could hear her emptying the contents of her stomach.

The priest looked at Noah, "So how have they been?"

He took a puff from his cigar, "Yvette an' Connor get along better an' better every day. Of course she an' Murphy are grand. Thah's the only thing I'm worried about."

"What is?"  
>"Yvette. I'm worried about 'er in all dis."<p>

They both nodded.

Yvette stepped out of the room and wiped a hand across the back of her mouth. She looked pale and shaky. Sitting back down at the table, she stayed silent. The entire table was silent as they wondered and waited for the twins to make a reappearance.

Connor picked up a pair of shears usually used for the sheep and started cutting his hair down. That only took forever…Next he trimmed his beard and shaved it off. Murphy followed suit and started cutting his hair and beard. The twp then showered themselves clean, dried off, and dressed in the trademark blue jeans, black shirts, pea-coats and heavy boots. They put their guns into black duffel bags along with all the money. They looked at each other and nodded. With set jaws they headed back to the cottage.

Upon their reentrance Yvette looked up. At first she didn't think it was them. She had never even seen pictures of the boys before they looked like Jesus. Had she not been so upset, she might have allowed herself to see how amazing they both looked. She couldn't though. All she saw were the bags. They stood looking pissed at the end of the table.

Father MacManus cleared his throat, "What exactly do yew intend ta do?"

Connor tossed the pennies onto the table.

Murphy, looking murderous, said, "Every last mother _fucker_, that had _anything_ ta do with et."

Without any other warning they walked outside with the thought of the docks in mind.

Yvette jumped up and followed them outside. She caught hold of Murphy's hand. Tears were rolling from her eyes but in the rain no one could tell. She held his hand tight, "Don't go! Please don't go."

Murphy placed a gentle hand on her cheek and rubbed it with his thumb, "I have to. We need ta do this."

She shook her head. Opening her mouth to speak, nothing came out. Instead, her shoulders shook as she cried. Finally she repeated the line, "Don't go."

He lifted her chin, "We have to." He went to kiss her goodbye.

Yvette turned her face to the side, refusing the kiss. It had nothing to do with the fact that she had just wretched. No, she couldn't, wouldn't let him leave thinking she was alright with this.

He sighed and turned from her, walking to his brother and onward.

As she watched the twins walk off into the rainy night she hit her knees and cried in the rain.

Noah walked outside and brought her to her feet, "Come darling." He led her inside where she went straight to bed.

Father MacManus shook his head, "I hate seein' a lady cry."

"Don't we all?"

**Hours Later: On the Cargo Ship**

"No."

"But I got connects all over Bean Town, man. Romeo hook you up like a two truck," said the Mexican with the hopes the boys would let him help them.

Murphy shook his head, "No" He took a pull form a cigarette.

Romeo looked at him, "Why not?"

"We don't have to give you fuckin' reasons. Forget it."

The swarthy man nodded, "It's 'cause I'm Mexican, isn't it?"

Connor looked insulted, "How dare you, sir, you insinuate such a thing. The fact that you're a greasy spic, it's got not'in ta do wit' it!" He and his brother shared a laugh.

Romeo made a face, but nodded, "Ok I'mma let you have that one, but look I can do this. This isn't rocket surgery. You guys find the bad guys doin' bad stuff and you kill 'em, right?"

Connor shook his head, "Well, it isn't that simple, actually."

Murphy looked to his brother, "Yes, it is."

"Suppose you're right." He rubbed the back of his neck, "I was just hopin' that we were a bit more artistic about it, I think."

"Yeah? Well y'ain't," said the Mexican. "Now what do you plan on doin' when yah get to US soil?"

Connor kind of shrugged, "We don't really have, you know, a succinct plan yet, you know, per se."

Murphy chimed in, "Haven't really work it all out, as it were."

"You two leprechaun dicks need to chill in the green room sippin' on some Pellegrino and let your manager here handle the details. And you better have my Cub Scout badge ready. Because if you wanna kick Yakavetta in the nuts, have him wake up with a horse head in his bed, Romeo's got an ace in da hole fo' yah."

The brothers chuckled. They agreed to let Romeo work with them.

An hour or two later, Romeo and Connor were just shooting the breeze when the darker of the two caught sight of Murphy. The man was laying on his back on one of the cargo bins looking up into the night sky. The unrelated man nodded to Murphy, "What's he doin'?"

Connor looked at his brother, "Probably thinkin' about Yvette."

Romeo raised a brow, "Yvette? Some nice piece o' ass he's got back home or—Fuck man!" He was holding the back of his head where Connor had just slapped him viciously.

The assailant glared daggers, "Shut it! She ain't just a piece o' ass. She's his wife."

Dark eyebrows shot up to the hairline of Romeo, "What the hells 'e doin' ere then?"

Connor took a deep breath, "He made a choice. Stay with her, or go with me and get the mother fucker that killed Father McKinney and everyone else who's startin' shit."

Murphy looked up to the sky. He did feel guilty for leaving Yvette, but he wasn't going to just let this slide. She would be fine with Noah until they finished the job and returned home. All he could think about, though, was when he tried to kiss her goodbye. She had never denied him even the smallest kiss before…He knew when they did get back he would have to do some serious groveling before she would let him come near her. Taking another long drag off his cigarette, he sent up a silent prayer that she would be alright while he was away. He snorted, what a way to go in the first fucking year of marriage, eh? A thought came to him. He prayed that Yvette didn't talk to her parents…Alain had told him if she ever cried tears of sadness because of him, the taller man would wind up six feet under. Had those not been tears of sadness? His ass was grass if Alain found out.

**The Next Day: Ireland**

Noah stepped into the bedroom where Yvette lay. He cleared his throat, "Yvette, yew awake?" It was nearly noon and she never stayed in bed this long. He had never seen her stay in bed past nine in the morning and that was late as it was.

She rolled over and looked at him, "I'm oop…"

Sitting on the end of the bed he gave her foot a pat, "Would ye like some tea? Coffee?"

She shook her head and turned her face into the pillow.

Noah watched sadly as she shoulders began to shake. She was crying again. He was listened long after his cousin had left as she cried herself to sleep the night before. He sighed, "They'll be alright."

Looking at him, she stuttered out, "I-I-I kno-ow z-zat."

He was confused, "Then what's wrong? Do yah miss 'im is all?"

Sitting up she shook her head, "Zere w-was somesing I 'ad t-to tell 'im."

"What?"

Yvette looked at Noah with tears in her eyes. She couldn't say it. Instead, she laid back down and buried her face in the pillow.

Very confused, the senior citizen gave her foot another pat and stood, "Ef ye need anythin', just call."

She only nodded at Noah left the room

**A/N For those reading, don't forget to check out And Shepherds We Shall Be. Penelope Sweet uploads often and you'll love how she writes the brothers! This chapter goes out to Sweet. A new friend with a good eye for writing. Here's to you, again, Penelope Sweet. **


	18. Namesake

**A/N So the guy who plays Young Noah is quite yummy. Quite yummy. MmmMmmMmm! Alright, I beg forgiveness, but I'm killing off Ma. Sorry to those who would oppose. **

**Chapter Eighteen: Namesake**

** Ireland**

Yvette came out of the bedroom to find Noah making some stew for dinner. She gave him a weak smile, "Allo." She sat down and took to braiding her hair.

The man turned and was shocked that she was finally out of the room. For two days she hadn't gotten out of bed. She ate little of what he brought for her. It had seemed she had sunken into a pit of depression, but perhaps he was wrong. She had the tiniest smile on her face. Sitting down in front of her after putting the pot over the flames, he asked, "Are y'alright, dear?"

She nodded at him, "I'm better. Eet does me no good to cry aboot what I cannot change. So, I well stop my wallowing and deal wit' eet oll." She made herself a cup of steaming tea and blew at the top, "Eef 'e sinks 'is going to Amereeca ees best, zen let 'im go." She sipped the warm drink. Sighing she rubbed her temples, "I just 'ope zey are olright."

He gave her a small smile and patted her hand, "My boys can hold deir own, trust me. Dey'll be just fine." Sighing he looked at her. She looked tired and slightly pale. "Are ye sure ye're alright?"

Yvette nodded, "I'm fine…I just need to get somesing to eat and get to doing sings again." She took another long draught from the tea and closed her eyes contently.

Noah looked her over, "Ye said dere was something ye had to tell him. What was et?"

Taking another drink she looked at him from over the edge of her mug.

He was taken aback by the life that suddenly sparkled in her eyes. It seemed she was back. All she needed was time to get all her tears out before she would be just fine. He looked into her dancing eyes waiting for an answer.

**Boston: After the Attack on the Chinese**

The boys stood snickering at the door to McGinty's as Romeo stood behind them.

Murphy gave his brother a little smack on the arm, "Here 'e comes."

As the door opened the twins smiled and said, "Doc!"

The graying old man with tourette's smiled as he opened the door, "Boys! You're a sight fer sore eyes." His words were stuttered out, "Come on in here with that. Get in quick." She smiled as he let them in, "Get in out of the cold. Come on." As the four men walked inside Doc kept talking, "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I saw the ne-ne-news channel. Are you boys alright?"

Connor smiled, "Sound as an Irish pound, Doc."

Murphy, always one for a good drink, asked, "Is it too late for a shot?"

Doc dismissed him with a wave, "Oh the Lord told me yew'd be comin'. 'Doc,' he said, 'They'd be coming.' And I was to have everything ready. And I have everything re-re-re…I's all set."

Behind them Romeo coughed.

Murphy motioned to him, "This is our Mexican."

Doc turned and shook his head, "Nice ta meetcha, lad. They call me…Fuck! Ass!"

Romeo nodded, "How yah doin' FuckAss? I'm Romeo."

When the boys asked if Doc had a place they could stay, the old man hobbled forth on his cane and beckoned for them to follow him. He opened a door, "This used to be a speakeasy i-in de forties. I only use et for storage now."

Together the twins said, "Holy shit," as they scoped out the room with it's pool table and pin-ball machines.

Romeo was very appreciative, "This is so fuckin' cool!"

Doc smiled, "Nobody knows et's up here. You'll be safe. You can get in an' out the f-f-f-fire es-es-es-cape."

"Know what dis is? This is out hideout." Romeo was all too happy about the room. "We gotta fuckin' hideout man!"

Connor scoffed, "What, are ye fuckin' five years old?"

Murphy, taking a jab at mocking the Mexican, held up a pool cue, "You know Rome, we've got sticks an' blankets, ye could make yerself a fort."

Romeo sneered, "Fuck the both of you, man. This is fucking sweet!" He pointed to the game machines, "We've even got pinball machines, man!"

The four men commenced in celebrating a bit with drinking and joking. AT one point Connor chased Romeo around with a lobster where his man bits were calling "Lobster dick! Lobster dick!"

Connor and Doc were staring at each other over the pool table.

Doc gave him a look, "Not dis time, yah little shit!"

The Saint nodded, "We'll see about dat ol' man." Waiting and counting for just the right second, Connor said, "Would somebody please come over here and…"

"FUCK!"

"Me up the…"

"ASS!"

Murphy and Romeo collapsed into laughter.

"Yes! That's what he done! That's what he done every time! I took yah down ol' man! I took yah down!"

The blue eyed twin fell to laughing so hard he was on the ground and kicking his feet in the air.

Good times…

Later on when Connor and Romeo were passed out, Murphy sat on an old barstool with what looked like a folded piece of paper in his hand and a beer in the other.

Doc, noting his strange look, hobbled over, "Wh-what is it, lad?"

Murphy took a deep breath, "Not'in'."

The old man tapped Murphy's left hand, "I may b-b-be old, but I still s-s-see." He raised a brow at the young man.

He handed the folded thing piece of paper to doc. It wasn't a paper at all, but a picture. It was the first picture Yvette had sent him of Bibiane with her sitting atop the mare looking amazing. He pointed to her, "She's me wife. Got married back en November. She wasn't happy ta see me go…"

Doc readjusted his glasses and whistled, "Dat's a pretty lady. Whah's h-h-her n-n-n-name?"

"Yvette. She's French. Met her about tree years ago. She used to travel Europe all de time. When we 'eard 'bout McKinney we had to come." He shook his head, "She was pissed. She wouldn't let me kiss her goodbye."

The old man put a hand on Murphy's shoulder, "Wh-wh-what did y-y-yew expect? Ye left yer new wife b-b-by 'erself." He gave a weak smile after scrunching up his face in a tic, "No wo-wo-worries."

He nodded, "Aye, I know it. I just hope she ain't too pissed at me."

Doc nudged him, "She married yew, yeah? Th-th-then she can handle yew pi-pissin' her off."

"Oh ha ha ha., y'asshole."

**Ireland**

Yvette and Noah were sitting by a nice warm fire in comfortable silence. She looked over at her father-in-law as he stared deep into the fire. He was deep within his own mind; that much she could tell. As she watched him fiddle with the arm of the chair, she wondered about him. She knew plenty about the family, but there were unasked questions. For one, she knew Noah had been in prison, but not why or for how long. She knew the boys' mother had passed away some years back, but she never knew her name. Little things she was curious about. She watched Noah as he pulled a loose stud from the arm of the chair and looked at it. He examined the stud for a few moments before staring back into the fire. She could tell he was remembering something he didn't want to remember. Leaning forward, she put a hand on his arm, "Noah? Noah?"

Snapping out of his trance, he looked to Yvette, "Yes?"

She squeezed his hand, "Are you olright?"

He sighed, "Just thinkin'…"

"What about?"

Sighing he looked to her, "Yvette, I've done tings."

She leaned back into her chair, "It seems everyone 'as."

He nodded, "Aye, but dere is a difference. Murphy an' Connor do what they do out of honor an' the call to rid the world of evil men." He sighed, "I did sings for revenge. My boys are better than me."

Yvette stared at him curiously.

And so Noah explained his own past to her. All the things he had done, the people he had killed. He told her he spent twenty-five years in prison when someone he thought was a friend set him up.

Yvette put a hand on his arm again, "Noah." She smiled and shook her head, "Eef ze I can 'andle zat ze man I love has killed, I can 'andle zis. Anyway, ze ass'oles killed your Papa. I'd probably find ze bastards and killed zem too 'ad zey killed my own Papa."

Noah put a hand beneath her chin and gave a small smile, "Ye're a very understandin' woman, Yvette. Murphy could do no better den yew."  
>She blushed under his praise, "Merci." She sipped away at her drink.<p>

Looking upon her, Noah asked, "How are yew feeling today?"

Leaning her hand back against the chair, she took a deep sigh, "Very well. I sink tomorrow I will veesit Laoise an' the rest of ze Gallagher family. I want to talk to zem."

He nodded, "Aye, yew do dat."

** A Few Days Later**

Noah was chopping up potatoes and tossing them into a pot for dinner. Lifting the heavy pot he placed it in the fireplace to cook. Pulling back he started coughing. Covering his mouth with a fist, he let the moment pass. When he pulled his hand away he looked at the butterfly tattoo on the back of his hand. He ran his thumb beside the ink. Again he was reminded of his past…Stabbing the knife into the wooden cutting board, he walked out to the barn.

Thirty minutes later Yvette stepped into the cottage. She had gone into tow for the day to visit with her friends again and chat with Laoise. She had taken to going to town more often and helping at Gallagher's for the hell of it. When she stepped into the house she sniffed and went straight for the fireplace. She smelled the stew and smiled. Giving the mixture of meat and vegetables a stir, she looked around, "Noah? Noah?" He never left the pot cooking when he wasn't in the house for fear sparks could fly and shit would burn. Testing the stew she found it wasn't quite ready, but another twenty minutes would do it. Sitting down she waited as she contemplated life.

After twenty minutes she tested the stew and nodded. Taking the heavy pot off the hook, she placed it on a stone slab. Dousing the fire she walked out to the barn where she was certain Noah was. Walking in she saw him bent over a table rubbing away at something. Yvette walked towards him, "Noah?"

The man turned and looked at her, "Oh, hello dear."

She gave him a little smile, "You left the stew on the fire. It's done now."

He wiped his hair back from his face, "Did I? Sorry 'bout thah. How was yer day?"

She shrugged, "Well enough…" Walking up she spotted the six-gun holding vest. Curious, she asked, "What's that?"

Stepping back he showed her the vest, "I'm goin'."

"Where?"

"America."

Silence reigned for a few minutes. She took in a deep breath, "Not wizzout me."

Noah looked at her, "Yvette, what we do is dangerous. I don't want to put you in de middle o' dis."

She looked at one of the guns on the table and ran her finger over it, "I'm not going to stay 'ere alone." She picked up the gun. Yvette had done archery as a child and was good at it. Shooting was different. However…she picked up skills. Maybe shooting would be no harder than archery. Looking at Noah, she asked him, "Do you know what 'Yvette' means?"

He shook his head, "No."  
>She smiled, "As a child, I took archery lessons an' was good. My parents olways said zey named me right. Yvette means, in French, archer. My aim was pure." She looked at him with a fire in her eyes, "Do you sink my aim wit' a gun can be as good as wit' a bow? Sink I can go from arrows to bullets?"<p>

Noah raised his brows and had a little smirk on his face. "Let's see."

They spent the rest of the night practicing. He showed her how to properly hold the firearm and how to aim. When she had that down and was knocking an old metal coffee pot of a shelf, he started switching it up on her. He made her shoot certain spots on the pot, then he set up two more. The two were up the entire night.

At sunrise Noah turned to her, "Ya learn quick."

She smiled and handed the gun back to him, "Eet ees fun." Looking him dead in the eye she said, "I'm coming wit' you."

Noah sighed and nodded, "After thah display of quick learning, I'd be afraid ta have you behind me."

Yvette got a very smug look on her face. "The student will never surpass 'er teacher."

They went into the cottage as the sun came over the horizon. Yvette shoved a few things into her old traveling pack, stuff like her passport and spare clothing. She met Noah in the main room. They each had a bag; his was bulkier due to the weaponry she knew lay within it. Together they walked out the front door with America in their eyes.

**A/N This goes out to Troy Duffy for writing and directing a set of movies I have watched for many times over the past few days. I almost have every line memorized fit hat gives you a hint to how much I've watched BDS I & II**


	19. Never Assume Anything

**A/N Yah know, I'm not usually into smokers and all that, but Reedus smokes in a very sexy way. Hahaha, anyway, here we go!**

**Chapter Nineteen: Never Assume Anything **

Murphy and Connor were sitting at the bar of McGinty's and enjoying a pint after their success at the Pru. Lifting his glass, Connor said, "To rope, fuckin' best thing on de planet."

His brother shoved him, "Shut it ye fucker." Downing some of the beer he chuckled. So maybe the stupid fucking rope wasn't all that stupid…

The door burst open and Greenly came it. Grabbing his junk he laughed out loud saying, "Sack-O-Matic I said!" He would have joined the boys at the bar for a good drink, but the bullet shot through the door and into him stopped that hope. Greenly collapsed onto the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Greenly!" They would have gone to him had a tiny Italian man not come in with guns blazing.

The twins hopped over to the other side of the bar and got their guns.

"One! Two! Three!" They popped up and aimed at the man Bloom had informed them was Panza.

He had Doc. The man used him as a human shield and aimed at the boys.

Doc cried out, "Boys! Boys!"

The little man started making demands, "Put'em down. Throw them over. I'll kill the old man! Throw them over!"

Reluctantly the boys tossed their guns to the main ground of the pub.

Panza smiled, "Brothers, huh? Oh, we gonna have us some fun."

Outside the pub Noah and Yvette suddenly stopped. They had been in America all of twenty minutes when they made their way to the pub. They stopped when they heard gunshots. Yvette's eyes went wide. Noah stilled her frantic thoughts with a look. He knew his boys were unharmed. The two started walking up the steps to the secondary entrance into the pub when Yvette stopped. She told Noah to go ahead. She needed a moment. With a knowing nod, the old man continued.

"So, which one first? Which one do you love more?" Panza asked Doc with his gun still pointed at the brothers. He grimaced, "Huh! This one?"

Everyone was taken by surprise when a bullet, fired from seemingly nowhere, collided with Panza's left arm. The boys turned to look for the shooter to find their father walking out of a darkened doorway. Now free, Doc scrambled as best he could away from the murderous Italian assassin. Panza dropped to the floor and held his arm screaming in agony.

Connor and Murphy jumped over the bar and rushed to Greenly who was bleeding profusely. The lighter haired twin called out to the old pub owner, "Doc! Call de fuckin' ambulance right now!"

Panza, his painful arm forgotten, looked up from the floor into the eyes of Noah. He breathed, "You."

Noah looked down at the little man, "Where's the Old Man?"

"Never."

Pulling out two six-shooters, the ex-con loaded one bullet each. Giving the cylinders a good spin, he swung the guns shut. Holding them both out, he let Panza take his pick.

The boys were trying to comfort Greenly to hang in there.

"Come on, man, just hand in there."

"Help's on the way, hang in there!"

On the ground, Greenly shook his head and spoke through a bloody mouth, "Boys, it's over."

Both boys looked to be on the verge of tears.

Greenly smiled weakly through the pain, "It's okay. Proudest day of my life."

Meanwhile, Panza and Noah were holding the guns to each other's heads.

Connor, seeing the two, cried out, "Da!"

Noah never looked away from Panza, "Easy, boys." He nodded for Panza to make his first attempt.

The little Italian cocked back the gun and with a victorious grin, he fire. Nothing happened and the grin fell from his face.

The boys scrambled to grab their discarded weapons. Standing they aimed at Panza. Connor hollered out, "Jesus Fucking Christ! I'm gunna blow dis mother fucker's brains out right now!"

"Connor! Son, Daddy's workin'."

"The fuck you talkin' about?" Connor asked.

Noah only nodded to the boys to stand down. He cocked the gun, "Where is he?"

With a vengeful gleam in his eyes, Connor stepped back after saying, "No matter how this ends, you die today!"

Murphy stepped back with his brother, "Believe it, mother fucker."

"Where is the Old Man?"

"No."

Noah fired. Nothing happened.

Panza, relieved and shocked, gazed at the man.

Connor and Murphy dropped to their knees both whispering prayers on their father's behalf.

The Italian repeated over and over 'make me famous' as he cocked his six-shooter. Yet when he pulled the trigger, nothing happened. He stared at the gun in disbelief.

On the floor, the boys looked up hopefully, guns in hand.

Yvette stood in the dark doorway, no one noticed her. Hell, she wasn't even sure they could see her. Wiping a hand over her mouth she popped a couple mints.

Noah cocked his gun again. "Where?"

Panza seemed nearly frantic.

"Where is he!"

As Panza shouted in Italian, Noah pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

In the doorway, Yvette cursed and stepped out, "Fuck zis." Lifting the revolved Noah had entrusted to her, she shot the man.

Murphy and Connor thought it was Noah at first, but then it registered that his gun hadn't fired. Turning, they were both extremely surprised to see Yvette standing, gun held up, at the other end of the bar.

Noah sighed and looked upwards. He knew the pathetic man wouldn't have said anything either way, but he did sort of want the pleasure of killing the man himself. Turning, he beckoned Yvette forward.

Murphy was on his feet and within nanoseconds he was holding his wife in his arms.

She shoved him away, "Don't."

Shocked and rather upset, he stepped away from her and gazed at her curiously. Something was different, but he couldn't tell what it was. She looked the same, her usual braid in place, hell she was even wearing the sweater, but something about her seemed different. Was she that mad at him for leaving? Had anger changed her?

Just then Duffy, Dolly, and Bloom stepped into the pub. The three of them were dismayed at the sight of the dead Greenly, but slightly comforted at the sight of the dead Panza.

Dolly saw the young woman in the knit sweater. He looked to the boys, "Who's she?"

Yvette looked at the detectives. She bowed her head kindly, "My name ees Yvette MacManus, Murphy ees my 'usband."

Duffy chuckled, "You didn't tell us yah got married!"

Murphy laughed, "Ye didn't ask!"

The blonde shook hands with the two men, "Murphy told me a few sings aboot you all. I am sorry your friend ees…well…"

Dolly nodded.

Eunice Bloom looked at Yvette, "Ma'am, I'm sure you understand the gravity of this here situation. Your husband and brother-in-law are very wanted men, we are trying to be sure they never get caught." Her thick southern accent twanged through the sentence.

Yvette nodded, "Oui. I 'ope you succeed so 'e an' I can return to Ireland an' continue our peaceful life."

Duffy looked at her, "Hey, are you foreign or something? You've got an accent I ain't heard 'round here before."

She laughed and took a seat at the bar, "I am French."

The boys disposed of Panza's body and the ambulance took away Greenly's still form.

Everyone sat down at the bar for a drink.

Doc poured everyone a glass.

When he got to Yvette, she refused, "Just water, s'il vous plait."

Murphy, who was sitting to her right, and Connor, who was to her left, looked down at the blonde. She had never refused a drink before. They especially thought she'd want something strong after killing a man.

As everyone had their drinks, Yvette sticking to her water, Dolly called down the bar to Murphy, "So where did ya find her?"

The Irishman snorted, "She found me." He explained the happenings behind their relationship.

Duffy and Dolly mockingly 'aw'ed like little children. "How sweet!" They said in unison.

Murphy flipped them off. He noticed Yvette was being quiet, and she was always a social one. Tilting his head down so he could breath in her ear, "What's wrong?"

She just shook her head, "Nozing."

Not believing her, but not pushing it, Murphy enjoyed another beer.

After an hour or two the detectives left. Noah and Doc were chatting at one end of the bar. Yvette was still situated between the two brothers. The two brothers were sort of talking around her since she didn't seem to have a voice that night. She kept thinking about interrupting to talk to Murphy, but she couldn't. Oh how she loved him…how could she tell him, though?

"I gotta take a piss." Murphy hopped off the stool and sauntered over to the men's bathroom.

Connor looked at Yvette, "Y'alright?"

She nodded, "I'm fine, just sinking…"

"What about?"

Taking a breath she looked at her brother-in-law, "Of 'ow to tell 'im somesing very important…Connor…I feel like telling 'im will distract 'im an' 'e could get 'urt like zat…but eef I don't tell 'im…I don't know what to do."

He looked at her, "What is it ye have ta tell him?"

"Connor…I'm pregnant."

His jaw hit the top of the bar, "Seriously?"

She nodded, "I knew when you two left. I was going to tell 'im…I sink I'm about two…maybe two an' a 'alf monts. Zats 'ow long eet 'as been since I last…well…"

Connor nodded, "Yeah, I gotcha." He rubbed a hand over his face, "Well damn." He sighed and looked at her, "Ya wanna tell him so he knows…but ya don't wanna tell him so he don't get distracted, yeah?"

She nodded, "I don't know wheech one to do."

He thought for a minute, "I think it would distract him."

"So do I."

Connor gave the table a little smack, "Den obviously ye don't tell him yet."  
>"What eef you get caught? Zat detective lady, Bloom, she told me you two would see ze inside of a prison cell eef you were caught. 'ow would I tell 'im zen?"<p>

"Ye've got a point."

They were both silent for some time, lost in thought.

Connor looked at her, "Ya need ta do what ye think is right, but y'only have two choices. Tell 'im now, or wait an' pray that you can tell him later." Standing up, he beckoned for Yvette to hug him, "C'mere."

Standing she hugged her brother-in-law. Giving a swallow she said, "I will tell 'im now."

"Good."

Murphy was standing in the doorway of the bathroom watching his wife and brother. The two had always been playful friends and he had never seen Yvette hug him for more than two seconds before she went to bed. Now he watched as Connor held his wife for a little longer than he deemed appropriate. He continued to watch them. Connor looked down at Yvette and said something Murphy couldn't hear. When she gave a little smile and nodded, Connor kissed her forehead and chuckled. Murphy had had enough. He released the door that he was holding open, letting it slam shut loudly. That got their attention.

Yvette spun out of Connor's embrace and headed to her husband. She took a deep breath, "Murphy, I need to tell you somesing."

He didn't listen, nor did he look at her. He was glaring daggers at his brother.

She put a hand on his chest, "Murphy?"

The blue eyed man looked down at her and stepped away from her touch. He walked past her and headed straight for Connor. Shoving his brother, Murphy hollered at him, "The fuck was that!"

Connor, rather confused, shoved Murphy back, "The hell are ye talkin' about?"

"Yew an' Yvette! I've got fuckin' eyes, man!"

Yvette, now rather confused, shouted at him, "Murphy, what ze 'ell is wrong wit' you?"

Noah and Doc stood there watching. They had watched as Connor and Yvette talked quietly and they could tell it was only a comforting hug. Obviously Murphy thought otherwise.

Murphy turned to Yvette. He didn't shout at her, he didn't call her a name, he didn't say anything. He just turned back to his brother, "What de hell is wrong wit' you?"

"Me? Ye're de one comin' in screamin' and ragin' at me when I did not'in' wrong!"

"Fuck yew, Connor." He turned and walked away past Yvette.

She grabbed his arm, "Murphy!"

He shook out of her hold, "Don't." He stormed out of the pub.

Connor followed immediately. "What de hell is wrong wit' you?"

"I saw you Connor! I saw you holdin' her like that!" Murphy stopped and shouted at his brother.

"Are you serious! Ye're pissed 'cause I hugged yer wife!"

"Ye've never hugged 'er like that! And ye certainly ain't ever kissed 'er on the forehead!"

"I was bein' a brother! She needed my help!"

Murphy's jaw tightened, "Why couldn't she talk ta me?"

"I can't tell ya. She has to."

"What? Are you fuckin' serious!"

They both looked when they heard a soft voice, "Tell 'im, Connor…please…I don't 'ave ze guts." Yvette had been standing there since 'kissed her on the head' and she felt slightly insulted that Murphy assumed the worst. "Please, Connor."

Connor swallowed. Looking at Murphy, he said, "She asked me for advice on how ta tell yew someting real important."  
>"What?"<p>

"She didn't know when would be best, so she asked me what I tought would be best."

Murphy looked past Connor to Yvette. He started feeling like an ass. "What es et?"

Connor walked up to his twin and put both hands on your shoulder, "What would ya prefer? Da? Papa? Daddy?"

He looked past Connor to Yvette, "Yer…Yer…Yer…?"

Yvette walked up to him. First thing she did was slap him. "Zat's for making me cry for two days after you left."

"I deserved thah."

"Good, you deserve zis too." She slapped him again. "Zat is for assuming I would go wit' Connor when you know 'ow much I love you."

"OK I'll give ya dat one too."

"And zis," she kissed him, "zis is for zis." She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach.

Connor stepped away from the couple, smirking at how abusive Yvette could be. She'd never outright hit him, but she would always slap him if he deserved it.

Murphy kissed her back and, just like every cliché, he dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach.

Yvette smiled and pulled him back, "I knew when you left. I was going to tell you. I sink I'm about two, maybe two an' a 'alf monts."

He kissed her, "I'm sorry fer bein' an ass."

"I'm sorry you 'ad to act like one."

Murphy kissed her again. Remembering what a man once told him, he smirked, "Ef et's a boy, we need ta name him Alain."

Yvette laughed at the reference to her father's words.

**A/N This one goes to Katy. She was spending the night when I thought of how this chapter would play out. I had her watch I as did a one-man enactment of this entire chapter. Thanks for bearing with me Katy!**


	20. Midnight Murmurs

**A/N "I ain't gettin' him no fuckin' bagel."**

**Chapter Twenty: Midnight Murmurs**

Yvette was sleeping on an old, slightly lumpy twin sized mattress that was laid out in a corner of what Romeo so affectionately called The Hideout.

Murphy and Connor were sitting on the edge of the pool table talking. The blue eyed twin felt honestly horrid for jumping to conclusions early. He had no idea why he had reacted like that. He twiddled his thumbs and looked across the way to Yvette's sleeping form. Taking a deep breath he said, "Pregnant…"

Connor nodded, "Yep." He took a swig from a bottle and handed it to his brother. "And how does dis make yah feel?"

"Scared fuckin' shitless." He chuckled a little, "Her da came up ta me when he visited. Said ef she ever had a boy, had ta wiggle 'Alain' ento the name. I like it, really." He took a swig, "Means 'handsome' and of course a son o' mine would get all de girls."

"Yeah, the blind ones."

"Ah fuck yew!"

"And ef et's a girl?" Connor asked swirling the alcohol around in the bottle.

Murphy thought long about it. He shrugged, "Nah, I'll leave dat ta her. She'd tink up someting good." He took the bottle and took long swig. Shaking his head he closed his eyes, "Pregnant…"

"Dat shocked, eh?"

"Ye got no idea." He looked at his brother. "We said 'whatever happens, happens' and it happened."

"Ye only got yerself ta blame. It was like half de time yew two were a story-book couple, de rest o' de time ye couldn't keep outta each other's pants. I was expectin' it ta happen way earlier."

Murphy shoved Connor lightly, "Es et my fault ef I wanna sleep with my beautiful wife?"

"Es et my fault ef I don't wanna hear dat shit?"

"Get over et."

The two brothers started pushing, shoving, and occasionally giving a smack or slap.

They stopped when they heard, "Murphy…"

Looking over at Yvette, they found she was still sleeping and only talking in her sleep.

"Aww ain't dat precious?"

Murphy shoved his brother, "Stow et." Hopping off the pool table he stepped lightly over to where she was sleeping. After dropping to his knees, he bent over light to kiss her cheek. With that done he stood and sat back on the table with his brother.

Connor put a hand on his heart and looked at his brother in awe, "Well ain't yew just de sweetest guy on eart'?" He laughed and took a swig of the nearly empty bottle.

"Yeah, yeah, make fun o' me."

The two sat there talking for the next hour. Mostly about what they intended to do about the Old Man. Yvette's name popped in and out the entire time. Finally, Connor shoved Murphy off the table, "Get off me bed."

Jumping off the table the married twin chuckled as he walked over to the little bed. Connor laid out on the table with his jacket as a pillow and an old blanket. Murphy quietly sat down on the floor and took off his boots. That done, he moved onto the bed beside Yvette. It was a little bed, but they both fit, albeit without much room afterwards. He kissed her cheek again, then moved downward and kissed her stomach. There was no blanket on the bed; the two of them had let Connor have the blanket. He laid out besides Yvette.

"You smell like alco'ol…"

He smirked, "Maybe a bit."

She nestled up against him, "Are you really scared?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"Aboot ze bebe."

He sighed, "Yeah, I am."

"Why?"

Murphy kissed her softly, "Because I didn't think et would happen so soon…and I'm worried about when we go ta deal wit' de Old Man."

Thankfully, Yvette's eyes were closed else the tears would have flowed greatly. "Do you reelly 'ave to go?"

"Aye."

Taking in a deep breath she nodded, "Olright." It would do her no good to whine and beg him not to go. She knew he would go. When it came to what the Saints did, she knew he would always choose Connor over her. She could learn to live with that. Hell, he had chosen Connor for over thirty years. There was no way he would drop Connor for her. She would live with that.

Murphy held her close to him, "So tell me, yah tink it's a boy…or a girl?"

Yvette smiled and kissed his chest. Taking a moment she used her mother's logic about it all. She smiled, "I sink eet's a boy."

"What makes yah tink dat?"

"Well, my Maman olways said, eef eet's a girl, zen you 'ave worse moodswings, but eef eet's a boy, you 'ave more morning seeckness." She chuckled, "I feel normal, except when I feel nauseous."

"Oh et makes perfect sense. Where did yer ma get thah?"

"Her mozer. My Mami 'ad tree children. Two girls, one boy. She 'ad ze worst moodswings wit' my Maman and my Tante Isabelle. Wit' mon Oncle Didier, she 'ad ze worst bouts wit' morning seeckness. Maman never even 'ad morning seeckness wit' me. Eet's a boy. I'm olmost positeeve."

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, "Den 'Alain' et es."

"No, middle name, maybe, but no' ze first." She smiled at him, "What's a good Ireesh name?"

Murphy thought for a few minutes about every boy's name that came to mind. The ones he liked, the ones he hated. He smiled, "I've always loved de name 'Aiden.'"

"What does eet mean?"

"Little fiery one. Ef he gets yer temper, et'll be perfect."

She gave him a little smack, "Ass."

"Ye love me, though."

Yvette closed her eyes, "Oui…I do love you." Turning her head so she was looking up at him, she smiled. Kissing his chin she said, "Eef by some strange 'appening eet's a girl, I like ze name 'Celeste.'" She nestled herself against him.

Murphy turned the name over in his head. Celeste MacManus. It had a nice ring to it. He could picture the girl now with her mother's long blonde hair, but his blue eyes. For a minute there he went off into a day dream of some young lad coming over to pick her up for a date. He would stare at the boy with this look of absolute hatred as he cleaned a shotgun or some kind of weapon. He would tell the boy if he did anything to make Celeste upset, he'd deal with the boy himself. Of course Yvette would tell him to be nice and Celeste would whine at him being so mean. He would let them go out if the boy promised to have her back by nine. Murphy smiled, "I like 'Celeste.'"

She chuckled and kissed the underside of his chin, "Aiden eef eet's a boy, Celeste eef eet's a girl."  
>"Soundss fair ta me."<p>

"I'm insulted yew two! Why not name 'im 'Connor'?"

Yvette rolled her eyes an called back, "Because you 'ad to ask!"

"Thah's just mean."

The couple laughed.

"Go to bed, Connor, you 'ave shit to do."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He pulled the cord that turned the light off in the room

In the darkness, Murphy ran a finger along her jaw-line, down her neck, between her breasts, and finally came to rest on her stomach. He had known he would be a father for only a few hours, but instantly he loved the 'squiggly, wiggly little sea monkey' that Yvette described the baby as. That little thing in there, that little Aiden or Celeste, meant everything to him. He loved the little sea monkey as much as he loved the sea monkey's mama. He kissed Yvette, "I love yew." He gave her stomach a little rub, "I love yew, too, Sea Monkey."

Yvette chuckled, "Ees zat ze bebe's new nickname?"

"You bet yer ass et es."

**A/N Short-ish chapter, but I wanted something cute and sweet. The shortness works, I think. This chapter goes to Billy Connolly. He's a very funny man if you've never seen any of his stand-up shows, then you need to!**


	21. Scissors and Dye

**A/N I got more sleep than usual last night. Yay me! I also dreamt more of the storyline for Arrows to Bullets. This is good. Very good. Yep yep yep. "Bullets, blood, custom whole-sale slaughter. Yah follow my Lloyd-o?"**

**Chapter Twenty-One: Scissors and Dye**

_"Last night gunshots were heard inside a local pub in South Boston. Detective David Greenly was shot dead. We are unsure who the killer was, but an eyewitness reported seeing who he was sure were the Saints and another woman. The witness said she was a few inches shorter than the Saints with long blonde hair. She was, in fact, holding a gun. Suspicions rise that this woman killed the detective. Does this woman run with the Saints? Did the detective deserve his fate?"_

The four MacManus family members, Romeo, and Eunice Bloom stood beside the large white van. The four men were packing up and getting ready to leave to take out the Old Man. Connor gave Yvette a good hug and kissed her cheek. Romeo shook her hand told her what an honor it was to work with her husband. Yvette smiled and kissed the Mexican's cheek, thanking him for the kind words. Murphy took her hand and pulled her a little away from everyone else. There was something on his mind, something big.

"Yvette, yah need ta—"

She stilled his lips with a finger, "Murphy, Eunice an' I 'ave olready talked." Mind you this, Yvette completely butchered the pronunciation of the red-head's name. It came out sounding like 'oo-neece.'

He held her close and let himself smile. Using a finger he titled her head back so he could look into her eyes, "Take care o' yerself and Sea Monkey ef…ef dis doesn't go right. Ef et doesn't, I want ye ta take all de money, all of et, for yew two."

Nodding and promising, she kissed her husband for what she was uncertain if it was the last time or not.

Eunice and Noah were talking as she handed him some information. "He's in York, Maine. About an hour from here. But he's off the grid." She nodded, "Logged onto an FBI database to get the info. Only a matter of time before they flag it." Handing over everything she had she said, "Better get a move on or they'll get there before you do."

Noah, a tone of concern in his voice for the young lady, said, "Will they know it's you?"

Nodding with a slightly scared look in her eye, the red-head said, "Yeah."

The old man removed his sunglasses and asked kindly, "Will ye be alright, dear?" He softly put a hand on her shoulder.

Eunice nodded weakly, "I hear Costa Rica's nice."

Noah hugged the woman.

"I never thought I'd ask this of another human being, but please, kill this man. Kill this man."

Stepping out of the hug, Noah nodded. Turning tot eh three younger men he said, "Let's go."

After one last kiss, Murphy climbed into the back of the van with his brother and father. Romeo took the driver's seat.

Eunice turned to Yvette, "Are you ready?"

Yvette nodded, "Oui." She, or at least people who looked like her, were suspected of murdering a detective. How she hated the fact that people were always wrong in their accusations. Now she and Eunice went up to the fifth floor apartment and pulled a few things out of shopping bags. Yvette nodded to Eunice to take a seat, "You go first. I used to coot my friend's 'air. Eet looked decent enough."

Sitting down, the red head nodded, "I'm gunna miss my hair."

"Tell me aboot it…" Taking up the freshly-bought stylist scissors, Yvette set to work. She trimmed inch by inch until the woman's hair was just above shoulder length. Taking up sections, she cut them into a layered fashion. Walking around to the front of Eunice, she gave the woman neat bangs. Nodding at her work, she picked up the box of hair dye Eunice had chosen. Putting on the latex gloves, she mixed the dye in the bottle and started to administer it to the red hair.

Eunice sighed, "I been a red head all my life…It suits me."

Yvette chuckled, "I've been a blonde oll my life." She worked the dye into Eunice's hair and took off the gloves, "Let eet seet for vingt minutes, eh, twenty minutes, zen we will reense eet." She turned the little hand on an egg timer.

"Good, now you sit down. Whatcha want it ta look like?"

Yvette stared at her face in the mirror. Her blonde hair was hip-length and healthy. All her life she had had long, blonde hair, but now that was the opposite of what she wanted. Sighing, she took up the hair and tried to make it look like it was really short. Nodding, she said, "Pretend you're looking at Murphy, zen start cutting."

Eunice nodded. The shorter the better in her case. When Yvette sat down the woman started to run a comb through it. "I'm jealous. I could never get my hair this long."

Yvette frowned, "Eet took me so many years of intense care to get eet like zis." The first time she heard the scissors she actually started to tear up. If there had been one thing in her life Yvette was cocky over, it was how long and beautiful her hair had always been. Now it would be short and chemically altered. That she hated…oh how she hated it!

They heard the timer go off and Eunice quickly rinsed out the dye and rubbed in the special conditioner. When that was done and she had a towel around her shoulders to catch dripping water from her now black hair, she returned to working on Yvette's hair. She chopped away the long strands leaving hair only a few inches long. With one last snip she patted Yvette's shoulder, "Take a look."

Standing and walking over to the mirror, Yvette almost cried. Her beautiful hair was gone. However…the short hair didn't look too bad. It was much like Murphy's, but still with a feminine flair. Turning to Eunice she smiled, "You 'ave a knack for cutting 'air. Bravisimma."

Eunice nodded, "Let's dye it now."

"Do I 'ave to?"

"Yes."

Yvette sat back down and Eunice mixed the dye up and administering the goop to the blonde hair. It took much less time now that her hair was incredibly short. Finished, she spun the knob on the timer, "Twenty minutes." Sitting down she started to towel off her hair.

"Do you sink zey will get caught?"

"Yah was my honest ta God opinion?"

"I need eet…" Yvette looked into Eunice's blue eyes.

Sighing, the woman nodded, "Yes. I think they'll step outta that house and right inta handcuffs. I'm sorry, but it's true."

"Je sais… Where do you intend to go?"

"Costa Rica. Spain. Africa. Just away from here."

Yvette nodded, "Spain ees very nice. When I traveled, I went trough zere. Eet ees very nice." She leaned back and put her hands on her stomach.

Eunice nodded to the woman, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That baby. It's daddy's probably gunna be locked up."

Yvette sighed, "I know…I intend to go 'ome to Ireland as soon as I know…or stay 'ere. I don't know."

"The longer you stay here, the easier you make it for the cops to pin you with Greenly's murder."

In one of her usual fits of rage, Yvette kicked over the table with a little shout, "Damn eet! I shot dat Italian mozer fucker, not Greenly!"

"We know that, but there ain't a body for Panza anymore, an' you an' the Saints weren't there when the ambulance came for Greenly. What else would they think?"

Sitting down, she nodded, "You're right…" Looking at Eunice she sighed, "Ireland eet ees."

The timer dinged.

Getting up, Yvette went to wash out the dye and rub in the conditioner. When she was done, she rubbed her short hair dry. That only took a minute. Grabbing a comb, she ran it through her hair. Standing in front of the mirror she ran a hand through her now flame colored hair. She shook her head and let the semi-natural looking red hair fall as it would. Walking back over to her hair she grabbed the phantom braid and tried to pull it over her shoulder.

Eunice tried not to laugh. "That was funny."

"Bitch…"

"Quite often, yes." Standing, the Special Agent held out a hand, "Yvette, it's been a pleasure."

Standing the newly dyed redhead shook the woman's hand, "Eet 'as been. Know zis, eef you are ever in Ireland, you 'ave a roof so long as you know me."

"Thank you."

Suddenly, Eunice's phone went off. Answering she said, "Yes, Duffy?"

Yvette stared at the phone. She prayed for good news and not what she knew it really was.

Eunice nodded, "Right." Hanging up she looked at Yvette, "The Old Man is dead…"

"And?"

"Noah didn't make it."

A hand flew to Yvette's mouth as tears formed in her eyes. _Not Noah…no…not Da…_She had never called him 'da' in person, it had always been 'Noah.' Now she regretted never calling him the affectionate name in person. He had always been a father to her ever since she met the MacManus family and especially after she became part of them. Hell, he was the first person to know she was going to have a baby. Her own parents didn't even know about that yet. Sinking into the chair she asked in a quiet voice, "Connor and Murphy?"

Eunice sighed, "Back of police cars…Duffy told me they were injured. However, they are still goin' to prison. I'm sorry."

"I knew eet would 'appen." Standing, she asked, "Would I be able to veesit zem?"

Eunice sighed, "I don't know. The Hoag is a tough place. You might be able to, but I don't know. Prison's have visitin' hours, but with the boys…I don't know."

Yvette narrowed her eyes. She was going to see them and no one would stop her. She would jump through hoops. The raven haired woman walked out, leaving Yvette to her thoughts. She would get help from a lawyer or something like that. A little smirk came to her lips. She had the money to do this. Hell, she had the money to do quite a few things. Looking in the mirror she twisted a short lock of bright red hair. It looked natural and dyed at the same time. That wasn't what she focused on. What she was focusing on was how she would find a lawyer and get the information she needed to get the rights to see her husband at will. She would not be stopped.

**A/N Here's another chapter for my friend Penelope Sweet. If y'all liked her story "And Shepherds We Shall Be" check out it's sequel "Paramour." The first chapter had me hooked!**


	22. The Wife of a Saint

**A/N "We're gunna have ourselves a good, old-fashioned shoot 'em up!" I love that scene.**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The Wife of a Saint**

Yvette sat on the other side of a shiny oak desk with an empty seat beside her. On the other side of the desk in a new looking suit and a high end toupee was a man who looked to be in his mid-forties. He was looking over something Yvette had just handed him. Looking up at her he said, "Mrs. MacManus, huh?"

She nodded.

"A wife of a Saint."

She nodded again.

The man put the paper down, "My name is Richard Mark, but you, miss, can call me Dick. What can I do for you?"

Yvette smiled, "My 'usband and borzer-een-law 'ave been een prison for ze last two weeks. I want every single right to ze zem at will. I olready tried to see zem once on 'veesitors day' and I was turned away."

His eyes widened a bit at her request, "I can't promise anythin', but I can try. Now, as for my rates, I'm an expensive man."

"Money ees not of my concern. I wouldn't 'ave come eef I didn't sink I could pay you."

He nodded. Asking an unrelated question he gave her a little smile, "What are you? French or something?"

She smiled, "Oui, French. So, can you 'elp me."

"Why is this so important to you? Most wives get pissed and tell their men to fuck off. Why do you want to see him so much?"

She laughed, "Only American women act like zat. I am very devoted to my 'usband. Zat, and I am to 'ave a bebe. Wouldn't eet be onfair no' to let 'im be even a leettle there?"

Dick nodded, "True. Congratulations."

"Merci."

"Now here's another question." He looked at her dead in the eye, "It's easy to cut one's hair and dye it. Are you the woman rumored that killed Detective Greenly?" He instantly noticed he ruffled her feathers.

"No." She clenched a fist, "Some Italian 'eet (hit) man did zat. 'e was ze one 'o took Greenly's life, not me."

"Did you fire a fun that night?"

Her face tightened. "Oui."

"Did you shoot someone?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Oui."

"Who?"

"Ze Italian bastard."

Dick sat back in his seat and ran a hand over his well set toupee. Looking across at this woman he noticed she had two very distinctive glows about her. One, the usual one of a happy pregnant woman. The other was a glow of rage. Her red hair almost lifted with the static energy she seemed to be producing in her fury. He nodded, "You know what, I'mma cut you a deal. It's usual seventy-five per hour with a two-thousand down payment for my services. For you, I'll trim it down to fifty and a five-hundred down payment. This isn't just because I like you. Mrs. MacManus I—"

"Yvette, please."

He nodded, "Yvette. I want you put your face in the public's eye. Just picture it. You, a sweet pregnant wife being denied the rights to see her husband. How the public would back you. Especially since so many people find what the Saints do as the right thing." He turned to her, "I need you to play the sweet wife. Cry if you have to. Hell, get an ultrasound and show it to the camera. You need to get as many people behind you in order for you to get into the Hoag. Now, I'd like you to meet a man I have worked with more many years to get into back doors."

The door swung open. In stepped a short-ish man with long dirty blonde hair and a rather pointy nose. He gave the red head a smile, "Hello Mrs. MacManus. My name is Paul Smecker."  
>Standing, she held out a hand, "Murphy told me of you an' 'ow you 'elped ze."<p>

"And Eunice told me of you and how far you're willing to go to see your husband." He sat down, "Dick, I want you to spend your full time working for Yvette. Don't take any other cases. If we can get the public behind Yvette, then we move one step closer to getting the boys out of prison."

Yvette looked at the two of them, "I want you two know one sing. Eef I ever feel like I am being used, I drop you and got 'ome."

The two men nodded. "Fair enough." "Yes, ma'am."

With that they all shook hands. The deal was struck.

**Two Days Later**

Yvette stood amongst the people rallying outside the gates to the Hoag with Dick by her side. Phase One was about to begin. They would get everyone's attention and out Yvette as Murphy's devoted, pregnant wife who was being refused by the system to see her husband, even during the prison's Sunday Visitor's Hour. Her body trembled with anticipation.

Dick whispered in her ear, "Ready?"

She nodded, "Ready."

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please! Your attention!" Dick called out to the mob.

A silence slowly fell over the group.

The slightly-dirty lawyer smiled at them all and bowed his head, "Thank you! Now let me ask you a question! Is it fair for the warden of this prison to deny a family member the right to visit with a prisoner? Especially when this prison has a weekly visitors' hour!"

The all stared at the man, some shook their head. One woman called out, "Not fair!" Soon everyone followed suit and started shouting how unfair it was for them to deny the family member their rights.

Dick hushed them all with a hand, "And if the prisoner they wish to see is injured and in the hospital wing? Is it still unfair?"

"That's worse!"

"Those assholes!"

Dick brought Yvette forward, "Ladies and gentlemen! Please turn your attention to this young woman! Her name is one that should spark interest!" He paused for a good dramatic silence. "Her name, my friends, is Yvette MacManus!"  
>The crowd gasped collectively.<p>

"Yes! This woman is a wife of one of your beloved Saints! She has been turned away on visitor's day because of how dangerous her husband is! Now tell me, is an injured man dangerous? We know from reports the brothers MacManus are bed ridden due to injuries. Do they sound all that dangerous?"

"No!" "Those bastards!" "She should just walk in!" "Yeah!"

Dick gave Yvette a little smile.

She had to admit he was good. The crowd was backing her now. It was then she saw the camera pointing at her. With a soft sigh she made a very sad face.

"Now tell me this much! What if, for argument's sake, I say Yvette here is gunna have a baby! How fair is it for them to deny a pregnant wife the right to see her husband?"

The people from the news channels swarmed to the front and the barrage of question began.

"Mrs. MacManus are you really pregnant?"

"How long have you been married to one of the Saints?"

"Which Saint is your husband?"

"If you are pregnant, is your husband the father?"

Dick nudged her a little, "Answer them."

Yvette nodded, "Yes, I am pregnant. We 'ave been married a short time, only since November, and yes, he ees ze fazer. I am married to Murphy MacManus."

"Yvette, you sound foreign! Where yah from?"

"How do you feel about what your husband does?"

"Do you think it's fair they won't let you in?"

She took in another breath. All the questions and people and cameras were giving her a headache, but she had to push on. She wasn't going to back down. No. She would see Murphy. With a weak smile she answered, "I am French. I sink zat Murphy and Connor are doing good by doing bad. Ze keell men 'o would keell any oof us. What zey do upsets me, but I know zey do eet wit' good in zeir 'earts and minds. I sink zese men are being terribly onfair to me! I am a visitor wanting to see an inmate. Why can't I go een? Zey sink Murphy and Connor are dangerous. 'ow so? Zey are in beds wit' 'oles in zeir bodies!" Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of her injured husband, "I 'ate sinking of 'ow much pain 'e could be in!" Tears started to fall down her face.

Dick waved them off, "That's enough! My client is too emotionally stricken by the cruelty of men to continue." He walked her away from the crowd, "C'mon sweetheart."

Questions kept being called after them as Yvette got into a car. Dick hopped into the driver's seat and smiled at her, "Excellent work. Were those tears real?"

She shrugged, "A leettle oof bos, I sink."

The man chuckled as they drove off.

**That Evening…**

Murphy and Connor were laying on their respective hospital beds watching the small TV that was up in the corner of the room. The evening news had just started

_"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I'm Melissa Brown."_

_"And I'm Joseph Carson."_

_"Tonight we open with Day 17 of the Saint Watch." The image cut to a panning of the rallying mob with their signs outside the Hoag._

_"Now, Melissa, the Saints, Murphy and Connor MacManus have been the talk of the town for some time. Boston is split in two. Some want them out, some want them to stay in. Now, no one it seems wants them out more than a young woman our cameras caught a hold of today."_

"Ye think a girl took 'er top off?"

"It's always ex wit' ye, isn't et?"

Connor snickered.

_On the screen came a still shot of a slightly tanned redhead with dark brown eyes. "Her name is Yvette, and guess what, she's Murphy MacManus's wife! This beauty showed up with her lawyer and got the attention they were hoping for." The clip of Dick asking questions and Yvette's tearful answers was shown. "So it seems the Hoag is saying no to someone rights."_

_"Yes, Melissa, it looks like that. Now, apparently Mrs. MacManus is expecting a baby. Poor lady, her husband in prison and being refused to see him AND she's pregnant! I sure hope things start looking up for Yvette."_

_"Oh absolutely Joseph, she seems like such a nice lady. That poor girl."_

_"What do you think? Is the Hoag being unfair to Yvette?"_

_"Of course they are!"_

_"I'd have to agree. Now, let's look at the newest movies that hit the theaters today…"_

The boys looked at each other slack-jawed.

Murphy furrowed his brow, "They're usin' Yvette ta get us out!" That almost bothered him more than her new hair. He knew she couldn't keep it long and blonde what with Greenly, but really? Red? She had to go with red!

Connor shook his head, "I don't tink so. I tink she's usin' them to get in."

The officer standing with a hand on his gun chuckled. "It doesn't matter." He looked at Murphy, "I'm jealous."

"Why?"

"Did you not see your own wife? She's fiiiiine."

Connor and the guard laughed at Murphy flipped off the gun-holding man.

**A/N This one goes to D-D-D-Doc! Thanks for making me sm-sm-smi, or fuck it, makin' me happy! Thank you very much, FuckAss!**


	23. Don't Mess with the Sea Monkey

**A/N "We're kinda like 7-11; we're not always doin' business, but we're aaalways open." "Mmm that was nicely put." "Thank you very much."**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Don't Mess with the Sea Monkey**

For three weeks Yvette went to the gate of the Hoag and stood there, silent, watching. The crowd started holding up new signs. Now, instead of only the usual "Let them Go!" "Free The Saints!" "Save the Saints!" there were ones like "Open Up For Yvette!" "Visitors Right!" "For The Baby!" and, her personal favorite, "Murph & Yvette 4ever!" it was cute. She stood there staring silently up to the large, impressive building before her. She always did just as Dick suggested. One day she watched and started crying quietly. Another day she went right up to the gate and wrapped her fingers around the bars. She searched every single barred window hoping their window was one of the few she could see. However, every time someone passed before the glass, she couldn't tell who they were. It really itched when she would see prisoners staring down at the crowd. In her heart she prayed one of them was Murphy and that he could see her too. Every day she would turn and walk back through a crowd that would part the like the Red Sea before Moses. The questions had finally stopped. No one wanted anything from her. However, she still made the news channel. The local networks would always note when Yvette visited the gate. Little did she know that every day Murphy stared at the TV until he heard she had visited the gate. Little did she know he stood at the window trying to see what little of the gate he could, trying his hardest to get a glimpse of her.

"Yvette, I've got good news."

She sat down with a huff and ran a hand through her short red hair, "What ees eet?"

Dick placed a laminated rectangle in her lap that was attached to a lanyard. "Tomorrow, when you take your daily visit, show that to the guard and you'll find the gate opening wide."

She held up the little pass, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. Standing she hugged Dick, "You 'ave been a very good friend, Dick. You 'ave been so good to me and 'elpful. Sank you." Clutching the pass to her chest she picked up her bag, "Sank you, sank you so much!"

Before she left, he asked, "How's the baby, Yvette?"

She smiled. She had finally gone to the doctor to make sure everything was as it should be. The baby was healthy and the doctor told her she was three months when she went. Now, two week after that visit, she was three and a half months in and going strong. She smiled at Dick, "Ze bebe ees just fine. Healthy and everysing ees right on time." She kissed his cheek, "You are good friend. So…'ow many clients 'ave come to you?"

"I am the most famous lawyer in all Boston." He did look rather smug.

Yvette smiled and went back to the apartment she had rented out. She needed something nice, so she was renting out a little two bedroom apartment with soft carpeting and fresh wall-paper. It was a little place, but it was always clean and stocked with the things she needed. She hung up the pass on a hook by the door with her purse. Walking around, she could feel little flutters in her stomach when the little child moved. It was a strange feeling like being tickled on the inside. She put a hand over her stomach. There was a tiny baby bump starting to form. Lifting up her shirt, she ran a hand over the skin, "Be still, my little Sea Monkey."

**The Following Day**

With a smile on her face, Yvette grabbed her purse and her pass. Going through her purse she took out the things she knew they would not allow. Due to her relative fear of the hostile Boston streets she had taken to carrying pepper spray and a small spring-assisted knife. She had already used the pepper spray once on some ass who tried to snag her. Not good for him. Anyway, she was sure she had nothing presumably dangerous in her person or on her person before leaving. Walking down the street, there was a song in her heart. She would get to see her husband for the first time in about a month. Her heart was pounding in anticipation. She was getting to see Murphy.

As she approached the crowd, they went quiet as they did every morning. In the last month of her visited the gates the people were quieter. Now, instead of chanting, they just watching everything Yvette did. Everyone held their breath as they watched the redhead approach the front gate.

The guard shook his head, "Yvette, you know I ca—"

She silenced him by holding up the pass.

"I guess I can." He pressed a button. The gate slid open. Two guards escorted Yvette inside.

The crowd broke into a raucous cheer as they watched the woman walked up to the front door of the prison. Her month of patience had paid off (along with the money she had given Dick).

Inside the prison, another guard stepped up to examine the pass about her neck. He nodded and held out a hand, "Please relinquish the pass, your purse, any cellular devices, and jewelry. There is to be nothing for which the prisoners can use or take from you." He quickly checked her shoes, which were sandals. After Yvette handed everything over, the guard nodded, "You will get everything back when you leave in one hour." Looking past her he said, "Ross. You will escort Mrs. MacManus to the hospital wing."

A large man with a holstered gun stepped forward. In a deep voice, he called, "This way, ma'am." He led Yvette through the halls and made small conversation, "My wife is one of the people who was gunnin' for you to get in. I was too. Hell, I didn't think it was fair hat they did. I'm glad you finally got in."

She smiled, "Sank you, Ross." She was unsure if that was his last or first name.

"It's only fair." He pushed open a door and motioned for her to go first.

By the smell of it she knew they had just stepped into the hospital wing. It smelled sterile. She stopped and grimaced.

Ross looked at her, "You alright?"

She nodded, "The smell…I don't like the smell of hospitals…"

He waited until she seemed to overcome whatever urge she just had before continuing onward. He opened a door and motioned for her to wait, "MacManus brothers, you have a visitor."

Yvette smiled as she heard their voices.

"Probably some newspaper wantin' an interview."

"Yeah, some stupid reporter."

Ross looked at Yvette and nodded for her to go in.

With a little smile she stepped into the room, "I 'ope you don't sink I'm stupid."

Connor and Murphy looked at her in surprised.

Yvette smiled at the guard in the room, "May I 'ug my 'usband?"

"Yes, ma'am, you can."

With a smile the woman walked over to Murphy bed and hugged him tight, not caring that he winced a little. She kissed his cheek, "I'm so glad I wos finally able to see you."

Murphy was still shocked, "But…how? I mean de news always said if ye came, but how'dya do it?"

She gave him a little wink, "I made a new friend. I believe you know 'im. 'is name ees Paul Smecker."

Connor's eyes widened, "'e's alive? We tought he was dead!"

She put a finger to her lips, "Eet ees a secret." She kissed his cheek again. When she pulled back she ran a hand over the bandages.

"I's not as bad as et looks. They've healed for the most part. Still twinges a bit, but thah's all."

She kissed a bandage on his right shoulder, "I'm glad you are at least alive."

"'ey! Where's my kiss? Where's my hug!"

With a laugh she walked over to Connor's bed and gave him a too-tight hug that made him grimace. She smirked and kissed his cheek, "Careful what you weesh for." She sat on the edge of Murphy bed and took his hand in hers, "I've meessed you, so very, very much."

Leaning forward, he put a hand on her stomach, "How's my Sea Monkey?"

She placed a hand over his, "Just fine. I went to ze doctor two weeks ago. Zey can't tell eef eet's a boy or girl, but I still say eet's a boy." Reaching into her pocket she pulled the one thing she had salvaged from the guards who had taken her things.

The guard cleared his throat.

Yvette held it up, "Eet's only a picture."

The man nodded.

She showed the folded image to Murphy and pointed to a the center, "See, zat's ze 'ead," she pointed about half an inch to the side, "and ze body." She smiled at him, "Zat's your baby."

Murphy held the ultrasound picture in his hands with a look of utter shock across his face. He looked from the picture to her stomach in awe.

"Hey! I wanna see me niece or nephew! Hand et over!"

Murphy handed the picture to his brother.

Connor looked at the picture and smirked, "Et already looks like ye, Murph. Thah poor kid."

"Ass."

Yvette laughed, "God I 'ave meessed you two."

Murphy gave her a quick kiss, "Aye, an' we've missed ye, too. When will ye come back?"

She kissed him, "Whenever I can. I got a pass zat let's me come as I please. Smecker and Mark, ze lawyer I 'ired, got eer for me. I owe zem so much."

He kissed her again. "I love you."

Placing a hand on his cheek, she nodded, "I know. I love you, too."

For the next thirty minutes they sat there talking. She asked them how they were enjoying prison, chastised them for getting stuck in their current situation, and let them know she would come as often as she could. In the mean time, she was helping Doc out with the pub just to keep herself from going mad with boredom.

"How is Doc?"

"Oh, 'e's fine. I do love ze old man."

"Everyone does."

And so it began. Yvette visited the prison nearly everyday. She would always bring fresh news to the guys. After they were released from the hospital wing, they were still kept away from the rest of the inmates most of the time. Each day they would go outside into the large open area and sit in the same bench. Once, they got into a nasty fight that ended up with five inmates in the hospital wing, the MacManus brothers included. That got them both a nice little smack from the redhead. The brothers found life in prison more bearable. Nearly everyday they got visited by the woman with the ever growing belly and a smile always on her face. It was much nicer than the looks they got from the other inmates. Murphy even kept a little stack of every ultrasound photo she brought. On the back of each one she would write which week it was and the baby's "name," for example, on the first on she ever gave him was "Sea Monkey—14 weeks." Murphy cherished the pictures greatly.

One day while he and Connor were sitting out in the overly sized courtyard, they were looking at an ultrasound Yvette had brought them. It was the twenty-first week. Murphy pointed to the picture, "Look a' thah little nose."

Connor chuckled and pointed a little to the side, "Makin' a fist. Thah babe will come out kickin' ass an' takin' names."

One of the inmates, an Asian asshole who liked to be called Chink(despite the fact that it is a racial slur), walked up. Snatching the photo he looked at it. Laughing, he called over some guys, "Look at this! Their little love child!" Flipping it over he read the back, "Sea Monkey? What kinda fucked up name is that?"

The group laughed as they passed around the picture.

Murphy, trying to keep calm, said, "Please, give it back." He held out a hand

Chink smirked, "Yeah, of course." He help up the photo and tore it right down the middle. Put the pieces together, and tore it again. He flicked the pieces at Murphy, "There yah go, Mick."

Rolling his head and cracking his neck, Murphy looked at the Asian, "Thah wasn't very nice." He glared.

Chink laughed, "Whatcha gunna do about it?"

Connor put a hand on Murphy's shoulder, "Don't."

Murphy shook off his brother's hand and stood, "I'm gunan do thes." He swung at Chink, starting an all out brawl.

When Yvette visited the next day, she shook her head at their dismal looks. Both were sporting a black eye, bruises, and busted lips. How hot-headed Murphy could be.

**A/N Here's another for my brother. This time it's a good thing! He helped me find the word I was looking for a couple times.**


	24. Promise

**A/N "How the fuck would you know?" "Fuck you I know shit!" Teehee**

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Promise**

Yvette walked into the Hoag as she did nearly every day. Without even thinking about it she tossed her purse, pass, and necklace onto the counter before being escorted by Ross down the hall. She had learned Ross was indeed his last name. His first name was George. All the while she was silent, resigned even. There was something she had to say to the boys that she truly didn't want to have to say. It saddened her to even think about it for it was terrible news. The entire walk to the visitors room, where of course they would meet since the boys had long since been out of the hospital wing, she was silent and thoughtful.

Ross, noticing her mood, asked, "You alright?" It had been a little under four months since her first visit. The two, though not grand friends, talked whenever he escorted her to and from visiting with her family. He often inquired about the health of the baby. Now he looked rather worried about her.

Looking up at the over-sized guard she sighed and smiled sadly, "I'm fine. Just sinking aboot sings." She looked ahead at the door they were approaching. Her heart began to pound as the time drew closer and closer.

The man simply nodded and opened the door for her. Once she stepped in, he followed after her.

Yvette sat down at one of the tables and waited. Across the room there was another door. She stared at it until it opened. She watched as Murphy and Connor were let in. A little smile fell over her face. They had been good boys because they weren't cuffed. It was a rare day that they weren't cuffed…She also got a little fluttery due to the fact they had beards and shaggy hair again. She loved when Murphy looked like Jesus, it made her giggle.

The two smiled as they sat down at the table with her. Murphy smiled at her, "Hey."

She gave a weak smile, "Allo. So I see you 'ave been good boys."

Connor rubbed his wrist, "Aye, very good boys indeed. Dey even gave us a pack o' smokes fer bein' so good." He patted the top pocket of his uniform that had the rectangular lump.

"Good, because you two are scary when you don't smoke. Eet may be bad, but you two get razer cooky."

Murphy smirked at her, "Thah we do. Fuckin' bonkers." Looking her over and then to her stomach he asked, "How's Sea Monkey?"

With a smile she handed him the latest ultrasound picture with "Sea Monkey—25 Weeks" written on the back. "Zey keep asking me eef I want to know ze sex, but 'onestly, I want to be surprised."

A proud smile went over the father-to-be's face as he showed it to his brother, "I still tink de babe looks like her, don't you?"

Connor held up the picture and nodded, "Aye, better den ef et looked like yew. Fuckin' ugly kid that'd be."

"Shut it."

Yvette laughed, but it was a quiet laugh that expressed her real mood.

The twins looked at her, "What's wrong?" They asked in unison.

Yvette looked at Connor, "I…I need to be wit' Murphy alone." Standing she gave him a hug, "I love you, Conn."  
>The fairer haired twin nodded and kissed her forehead, "Love yah too, sis." He left the visitors room rather confused as to what was wrong.<p>

The redhead looked at Murphy.

"I hate yer hair."

She played with a lock, "Well…after everysing I couldn't keep eet as eet wos, you know zat."

He frowned, "Still don't like et." Leaning on the table he asked, "What's wrong?"

Looking at her hands she twiddled her thumbs, "Murphy…I…I…" Tiny little tears began to form in her eyes, "I'm leaving."

Rather confused he just stared at her, "What?"

Taking a deep breath, she looked into his blue eyes, "I'm going back 'ome to Ireland."

"Why?"

She looked around her, then back to Murphy, "Look around you. What about zis place makes you sink I would bring a baby 'ere? Nozing! I am going 'ome where I will 'ave ze bebe."

Murphy looked at the prison visiting room. She made a very good point. "But what about me? Don't I 'ave a say en dis?" He gave her a rather hard look.

Yvette shook her head, "Murphy, I don't like America. Ze people are mean, ze doctors are…zey are impersonal. I want to go 'ome an' be where I am 'appy. You won't be zere, but eet ees better zen bringing a bebe to a prison to meet ze papa, n'est pas? 'ow would you sink about a small child walkin' zese 'alls knowing guards by name and tellin' zere little friends zat zere papa ees an inmate." She took his hand, "'ow would you feel?"

Again her with her damn good points…He sighed and clenched his jaw. It wasn't fair…but then again…wasn't he unfair by getting himself locked up in the first place? Nodding, he said, "Fine." He looked her in the eye, "When are ye leaving?"

She was playing with his hands, "Next week. At my appointment yesterday ze doctor said eet would be just fine. I am good an' 'ealthy. Fit for flight." Running her finger along the tattoo on his hand, she looked up at him, "Also, I want to spread Noah's ashes. I promise I'll save you some so you can 'ave a go when you get out."

"Whenever dat es."

Yvette looked at her watch and frowned, "I'm sorry, my love, but I must leave. I 'ave to get to ze pub and 'elp Doc unpack a shipment." Standing she kissed him softly, "I love you."

He kissed her back, "Will ye come back before ye leave?"

She could tell he was rather upset by this new installment in their relationship. With a little nod she gave him the tiniest kiss yet again, "Oui. I leave Friday, I'll come back Wednesday." She smiled softly at him. It was Thursday.

Murphy came around the table and knelt before her. He kissed her stomach and whispered, "I'll see ya as soon as I can." Standing up he took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. Pulling back he nodded, "I'll see ya next Wednesday."

Yvette nodded and hugged him, "I love you, Murphy." Looking up she said, "I'll make you a promise."

"Yeah?"

She gave a weak smile, "No matter 'ow long you are 'ere, I will never, an' I mean never, find someone else. I don't care eef I 'ave to wait all my life, you will always be ze only man I can ever love."

For some strange reason that comforted Murphy. With a small smile he hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. There was nothing he could say. Instead, after the hug, he watched as she walked away. A small smile came to his lips. She didn't really walk anymore, but waddled slightly like a penguin. He thought it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

Wednesday came and went. She visited as she promised, had a very tearful goodbye with Connor, and sat with Murphy talking quietly for almost an hour. She repeated her promise never to love another no matter how long he was locked away. She also promised if it was a boy, which she was still hoping for, she would name it Aiden, just like he wanted. That seemed to make things the tiniest bit easier for them both.

He gave her a smile, "And ef et's a girl? Still thinkin' of Celeste?"

She smiled, "I still like eet and you obviously do."

He kissed her before she left.

Friday morning Doc took her to the airport where she would board a flight to Ireland. She kissed the old man goodbye and smiled playfully, "See y'around, FuckAss."

Doc smiled, "B-Be careful."

Nodding, she boarded her flight. After taking a seat and securing her seatbelt, Yvette started to relax. Beside her sat a woman who appeared to be in some top-notch business what with her pants-suit. She smiled at the business woman, "Allo."

The woman looked at Yvette and smiled. Holding out her hand for shaking she said, "Hello. I'm Amelia John."

"Yvette MacManus." Yvette always hated sitting by people she didn't know and with that out of the way, she felt a little better. "Why are you going to Ireland?"

Amelia smiled, "I work for a resort company. Each year I visit the locations to be sure everything is working properly."

Taking a stab in the dark, the Frenchwoman asked, "The Carlisle Resorts?"

The woman smiled, "Yes, how did you know?"

Yvette smiled broadly, "My 'usband and I stayed zere for our 'oneymoon een November."

Amelia smiled, "Did you enjoy everything?"

"Oh yes! Eet was marvelous. Everysing wos perfect."

The business woman nodded to her belly, "So when are you due?"

"Oh, just about two more monts."

"Is your husband also French?"

Yvette shook her head.

Amelia chuckled, "I should have known. 'MacManus' isn't a very common French last name."

"No, eet's not."

"You sound very French, you know, your accent is pretty thick."

Yvette nodded, "I just learned English a little while ago. Murphy, my 'usband, and 'is brozer speak nearly perfect English and they 'elped me very much with getting eet right." The plane took off. Yvette had only flown a couple times and the feeling of her stomach dropping out always bothered her.

"May I ask what you want to name the baby?"

The redhead smiled, "'Aiden' for a boy, and 'Celeste' for a girl."

"I like that name, 'Celeste,' it's pretty."  
>"Merci. Murphy loves eet." She leaned back into the chair.<p>

"Is Murphy in Ireland?"

Yvette shook her head, a slightly dark look on her face, "'e ees 'ere. 'e 'as to stay for a while, but I am going 'ome to 'ave our baby."

"Oh…Well I hope all goes well with that, Yvette."

"And wit' you, Amelia, I 'ope ze resorts olways do well."

The two spent the rest of the flight in relative silence, only with the occasional conversation popping up.

When the plane landed, Yvette found Laoise waiting for her. The full-figured Irishwoman squealed happily at the sight of Yvette. She knew her friend was pregnant, but now with a well-grown belly and that glow about her it seemed more intense. After a joyous hug, the two friends set out for home. Yvette was glad she didn't have to explain anything. The Saints had been big news, apparently, and plenty of people had heard. Laoise said she wasn't all that surprised. She always knew the boys had something in their past that no one knew about. Not having to explain made life easier for Yvette. Now, all she wished was that her husband wasn't in jail, that none of this had happened, that they were both living in peace. Yet…if it wasn't for the Saints she never would have met him. He and Connor would have stayed in America, Yvette never would have stayed with them. She was confused. Which did she want more? The Saints to have never existed, thus creating a world for her without the love of her life? Or the Saints living on and her meeting the man who would turn her world upside down? She had killed a man for Christ's sake! Which life would she have preferred? A life without Murphy? Or a life with the Saints? The answer was obvious and dancing in front of her eyes.

The Saints.

**A/N Here's a chapter for Nobody. Nobody, though people don't know it, will always be there. Nobody is the one you talk to when you think you're talking to yourself. Truth be told, if you listen very closely, Nobody answers.**


	25. Joi Zaira MacManus

**A/N So another chapter that is my brain child. Hope you all enjoy. **

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Joi Zaira MacManus**

** Five Years Later**

Murphy and Connor stood approximately twenty yards from the cottage they had once called home. It was mid-afternoon and they stood there just staring at the place. Murphy was scared shitless of walking up to the door. The only thing he could focus on were the words he had heard from his beloved Yvette. _"I don't care if I have to wait all my life, you will always be the only man I can ever love." _He truly hoped that she had kept true to her promise. Walking up to the door, he trembled horribly. Five years. It had been five long years since he had seen his wife. Five fucking years. Getting up the balls, he knocked on the door. Nothing happened at first. Knocking again, he waited patiently with Connor at his side. Murphy's eyes lit up when he heard the sound of an adult, feminine voice saying something.

The door opened to show a young girl behind it. She had shoulder length brown hair and brilliantly blue eyes. With a tiny little smile she said, "Me Maman es gettin' changed. She said ta let you in so you can wait for her." Opening the door, she took their hands and led them in to sit on the small, but comfortable couch. She smiled at the two men, "Are you Maman's friends?"

Connor smiled and nodded, "Yeah, we've known yer Ma fer almost eight years."

"Wow! Zat's older zen me!"

Smiling, Murphy asked, "How old are ye?"

The sweet little girl held up four fingers, "I'm four years ol'. I'll be five en…" she thought for a minute, "I'll be five on December tenf." Sitting on the floor she picked up a couple dolls are started playing.

Murphy looked at the girl in wonder. She was so beautiful. The little girl looked exactly like her mother, save the brown hair and blue eyes. She seemed so bright and full of life. Not to mention the sweetest thing he'd ever had the good fortune of knowing. He smiled at her, "Whah's yer name?"

She looked up, a toy pony in hand, and smiled. Her eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement, "Me name es Joi Zaira MacManus. 'Joi' means 'rejoicin'' en French an' 'Zaira' es Gaelic for 'princess,' Maman olways said I don' act like a princess, zo, she says I'm a crazy little monkey."

"Crazy li'l Sea Monkey?"

Joi nodded happily, "Yeah! Zat's wha' Maman olways calls me!" She looked at the man with a scrutinizing eye, "'ow did ye know zat?"

Murphy didn't get a chance to answer.

A door opened to reveal Yvette braiding it as usual. She didn't even see the two men at first, "Joi, who ees eet?"

The little girl shrugged, "I dunno. Zey say zey are yer friends."

Murphy smirked. He found the little girl's mixture of French and Irish pronunciations. When he looked at Yvette, the first thing he saw was her brown eyes. Then, old and not as shiny as before, the horseshoe necklace. She still wore it.

Yvette stopped as she looked at the two men sitting on her couch. Finishing off her braid and tying the end, she tossed it over her shoulder. It had taken her the entire five years, but her blonde hair was long once again and not a bit of red in sight. She swallowed hard and looked at the men. "Murphy…Connor…"

Connor stood and went to her. Picking up his sister-in-law and hugging her close he laughed loudly, "Yvette! God et's good ta see yah!" Putting her down, he smiled, "An' yer blonde again! Fantastic! Thah red just wasn't yer color." He hugged her again. He had missed her terribly. There had never been a woman he found more like a friend than Yvette. She was the biggest smartass he knew, next to Murphy of course.

She couldn't help it. The blonde hugged him with a big smile, "Why didn't you coll me when you got out?"

"Murphy was a pussy."

"Maman! He said a bad word!"

Connor turned to see the little girl glaring at him. He whispered to Yvette, "She's got your temper." He smiled at the little girl, "I'm sorry."

"'old out yer 'and."

Confused, but listening, he held out his hand.

Joi smacked the top of it fiercely.

He brought it back, "Ow."

Yvette laughed and looked at Murphy. She didn't know whether to be angry, or overjoyed. He was home. He was finally home after five years. For years she had waited and each year that passed hurt even more, but now he was home. He had come back to her. That made her happy. However…he wasn't there for Joi. He wasn't there for her first steps, first birthday, first tooth, first word, or even her first laugh. He wasn't there to teach her ride her pony that she got for her fourth birthday (a gift from her 'Tante' Laoise). He wasn't there for her, for his daughter. That made her mad.

Connor, sensing Yvette's confused moods, smiled at Joi, "Why don't yew an' I play? Yer Ma needs ta talk to thes man."

Nodding, Joi held up the little pony for him to take, "'er name is Coco an' she loves ta eat flowers."

Yvette gave a little smile as she watched the nearly forty-year-old man play with the nearly five-year-old girl on the floor of the little cottage.

Murphy stood and walked over to her. Taking her hand, he walked outside. With a deep breath he said, "Hi."

She looked up at him, "Five years."

"I know."

"She's olmost five! Five, Murphy!"

"I know…"

"Do you know 'ow many times she asked me 'o 'er papa wos? She olways asked why her friends 'ad two parents, a mama an' a papa. Eet keelled me when I told 'er zat 'er papa wasn't 'ere an' leeved a long way away."

"I know."

Tears were in her eyes. "Every day I looked at 'er wis zo blues eyes, your eyes." She looked away from him, "I wos reminded every day of ze last time I saw you. Eet 'urt more zen labor. Every sought of you 'urt."

He didn't say anything.

Yvette looked up at him, "But…"

Hope filled his heart.

"When eet 'urt ze most, I would close my eyes an' I'd be zere wis you. I'd put myself in zat cell an' eet would be you an' me."

Murphy turned her face so he could look her in the eye, "I love yew."

She nodded, "An' I love you. I kept my promise, Murphy, zere 'as been no one else." She gave a playful smirk, "Not zat zere weren't offers. Zis one fantastically muscular man wis gorgous red 'air an' blue eyes."

"What?"

She laughed, "I'm joking. I promise, zere wos never anyone else."

He smirked and shook his head, "Smartass."  
>"Olways."<p>

He couldn't control himself any more. Looking over her he was reminded of every second they spent entwined in sheets. She looked amazing. No one would ever think she'd had a baby. There she stood in those fitted jeans and a tight black top. It was almost too much for him. It _had _been five years. He couldn't wait. Pushing his wife up against the side of the house he kissed her furiously.

Yvette tangled her hand into his short hair and kissed him back. It was amazing was five years of abstinence would do. Had it not been for Joi and Connor, she would have taken him to their old room and had her way. As it was, she couldn't do that. That would just have to wait for later. Pulling back from the passionate kiss, she asked him with a sweet smile, "Would you like to tell your daughter she 'as a papa now?"

Murphy nodded, "I'd love to. Oh, an' I tought yew liked 'Celeste'?"

"I did, but ze day she was born, I suddenly wrote 'Joi Zaira' on the certificate. I liked eet better."

They walked back into the house, hand in hand, to find the funniest sight in the world. Joi was holding a pallet of makeup that she had obviously taken from her mother's room. She had Connor looking like a clown with bright blue eye shadow and pink cheeks.

"Joi! What did I tell you aboot using my makeup?"

The little brunette looked like she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She frowned, "Zat I wasn't allowed ta…"

Yvette was trying her best not to laugh at Connor. The best she could do was ask, "'ow did she convince you to do zis?"

"She said she wanted ta practice so she could help ye put on yer makeup…"

Murphy couldn't hold it in any longer. He fell onto the couch laughing his ass off so hard he could barely breathe.

Yvette broke. She laughed and dropped to her knees. Taking her daughter in her arms she said, "Eet's olright, Sea Monkey, eet's olright." She took the makeup from her daughter's hands and kissed her cheek, "'e looks very, very pretty."

"I know 'e does."

"But, bebe, men don't wear makeup."

Joi frowned and looked at Connor. Sighing she sat down, "Fine…"

The clownish man stood and went to wash his face off.

Yvette looked at Murphy over Joi's head. She smiled at her daughter, "Sea Monkey, where ees your daddy?"

"I dunno. You say 'e's really far away?"

Turning the little child to face Murphy on the couch, she whispered in her ear, "'e's right there."

Joi stepped forward and looked at Murphy. She stared long and hard at his face. Turning, she looked at her mother long and hard. She then picked up a little mirror on the floor and looked at herself. Putting the mirror down she looked back at Murphy and reached up to touch his brown hair. She suddenly smiled, "You 'ave ze same brown 'air an' blue eyes, just like me."

Murphy nodded, "Aye, Sea Monkey, I do."

"'ow do ye know zat Maman calls me zat?"

Yvette sat back and watched as the man chatted with the little girl.

"Well, before ye were even born, back when ye were still in yer Ma's tummy."

"Like Tante Laoise?"

Murphy looked at Yvette who confirmed with a nod. "Aye, just like Tante Laoise. Yer Ma told me thah ye looked like a squiggly, wiggly little sea monkey. I called ye thah an' de name just stuck." He took her little hands in his large ones, "So tell me, Sea Monkey, why don't ye tell me everyting about ya? I wanna know et all."

Scrambling up onto the couch besides Murphy, she smiled, "Well, me favorite time es summer, I like bugs, me favorite color es purple." She put the teddy bear she was holding in his hands, "Maman gave 'im ta me when I was a little bebe. I call 'im Monsieur Cuddles because 'e's so soft and sweet." She smiled, "I want my papa ta 'ave 'im now."

Looking at the rugged teddy, his heart clenched. The bear was already missing an eye and looked careworn, probably from the years of being dragged everywhere. He smiled at her, "Ah no, I couldn't take Cuddles from ye, thah wouldn't be right."

She shook her head, "No, ye keep 'im! I want ye ta 'ave 'im."

Murphy smiled and held the teddy, "Alright, I'll keep de bear."

Joi smiled, "Good."

Yvette was watching them from where she stood making up a snack for her daughter. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. After she had given the bear to her daughter no one but Joi had touched it. Now she was giving her most prized possession to someone she had just met. Wiping a tear from her eye, she brought in the little snack to her daughter, "'ere you go, bebe." If there was one thing Yvette caved on, it was cookies. She thought it was unfair to nibble on cookies, but tell a kid no. So, she gave her daughter a few cookies every now and again.

"Merci, Maman." After nibbling on a cookie, she offered one to her father.

Murphy smirked and took the cookie after thanking her.

Joi sat beside her father and kept jabbering away for the next two hours about absolutely everything. She told him about all her little friends she had in town and about her pony. With a proud smile she showed him a scar on her forehead. It was a little, inch long pale streak above her left eye. She happily told him the story of how it happened.

"Ye see, when I was only free Maman took me wit' 'er ta ze barn one day. Well, 'er mare Bibiane spooked an' kicked. She knocked me over an' I yelled at 'er 'cause she made me 'it my 'ead. That mean ol' fing!"

With a curious look the man turned to his wife.

Yvette nodded, "Oui. Ze child, bleeding fore'ead an' oll, yelled at my mare for 'urting 'er. Funniest sing I 'ave ever seen."

Joi nodded with a proud smile, "Aye, I made 'er regret 'urtin' me!"

Murphy chuckled and kissed the girl's forehead, "Yer just like yer Ma."

The petite brunette beamed the biggest smile at her father.

**That Night**

Yvette and Murphy laid in bed. Five long years had passed and there was more than just talking to make up. He had his wife wrapped in his arms as he kissed her furiously. Hands roamed over regions of the body neither had touched in some time on the body of another person. Both were on fire with desire as they kissed and touched each other's skin. For five years Yvette hadn't even thought about another man because she knew there was no one else in the world who could light her fire with only one tough like Murphy could. No one could look at her and make her go to mush inside. There was nothing in the world to her like the feeling of his lips or the touch of his hand.

Just as the two of them were about to really get the fire burning, there was a tiny knock at the door.

Turning to the door they both saw their little daughter in her long night shirt and her toy pony Coco in hand. She rubbed her eyes and looked sad, "I 'ad a bad dream."

Murphy groaned inside. Did this really have to happen? With a thought about his parents having sex, he dismissed the snake in his trousers. Sighing he gave her a little smile and patted the bed, "C'mere."

Joi smiled and crawled up between her parents. Holding her pony close she snuggled up against her father's chest. Within a few seconds she seemed to be asleep again.

Yvette gave her husband a little smirk as she kissed Joi's head. Quietly she whispered to him, "Eet 'appens. She gets zese dreams, but she never tells me wot zey are, just zat zey are bad."

"Aye, I had bad dreams as a kid, too." He put his arms around both of them and pulled them close. "I just wish she'd 'ad the dream tomorrow night."

With a smile and a quiet laugh the blonde nestled down to sleep happy and comforted with the thought that her beloved husband was home once again.

**A/N I am sorry that this chapter has taken so long. After the move it took ages before I could get a hold of any internet. I hope no one is too upset with me. **


	26. The Saints of South Boston

**A/N Well since I had no internet I just started writing the final installation to Arrows to Bullets. I hope those who have read have enjoyed this story. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed, you guys rock. Perhaps you'll enjoy my newest Boondock Saints tale that I've begun. Thanks to all.**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: The Saints of South Boston**

**Thirteen Years Later**

A man in his early fifties sat a top a gorgeous stallion as he watched a herd of sheep and a second rider in the distance. Truth be told, he didn't give a rat's ass about the sheep. The second rider had his complete attention. For thirteen years he had known the rider and had fallen so deeply in adoration that he could never bare to be away fm the person for more than a few days. How he loved his beloved Joi. She was the one person in his life he loved as much as he loved his wife. He put them before himself and his brother. No one in the world could make him smile like his hot-headed wife and daughter. He watched as Joi rode around the herd keeping them together. She had a knack for dealing with animals that neither he nor his brother had ever possessed. That skill made the sheep farm produce twice as much as it had before. At eighteen she had far surpassed anything they could do. A smile spread over his face as he looked at his child. She was no child, though. Oh no. Joi was every bit like her mother and hell if she didn't cause him trouble with the boys. Everyone, especially the boys her age, fell for those beautiful blue eyes and her sweet smile. She looked just like her mother right down to the hip-length braid. Murphy watched her ride. His little girl with the missing front tooth was a woman now.

Joi noticed her father's stare. He had always been one to watch and wonder. Riding away from the herd, but keeping them in sight, she approached him, "What is et, Papa?"

Murphy smiled at his girl, "I'm just tinking."

"Yer olways sinking, Papa." She gave him her famous smile and leaned over to put a hand on his. "What are you sinking about?"

"Yew. Et's been de best ting I ever did, bein' yer da."

She smiled sweetly at him, "You say zat every year."

"Only on yer birthday."

Joi looked out across the field towards the sheep. For thirteen years she had pondered the same question: Where had he been? Never had her parents answered the question. Now, she wondered if, perhaps, he would tell her. Taking in a deep breath she turned back to her father, "Papa, I'm eighteen now."

"Aye, y'are."

She fiddled with the reigns in her hands, "I wos wonderin' ef…perhaps…you'd tell me where ye were? I remember ze day I met yah an' gave yah my teddy. I remember crawlin' inta bed wit' you and Maman. Where were ye before zat? Why 'ave you two never told me? I want to know an' ye will tell me."

Murphy looked her in the eye. There was a fire there he didn't dare try and put out. With a nod, he began to explain, "Back when I was still a young man, before I met yer ma, yer Uncle Connor, God rest him, an' I killed two men in self defense."

"Zey attacked you?"

"Aye. Dey were bad men, mobsters. We den took et upon ourselves to rid Boston—"

"Massachusetts? En America?"

"Aye. We took et upon ourselves to rid the town of all thah was evil. Afterwards we fled to Ireland an' went ento hidin'. Five years later I met yer ma. Two years after thah I proposed. We were married fer six monts when we heard someone was tryin' ta frame yer uncle an' I wit' the death of a priest. We returned to America to find de bastard an' set 'im and everyone involved straight."

"Kill zem?"

"Aye. We went an' got 'em all. Every last mother fucker who had anythin' ta do wit' et. We killed every last one. But…we got caught dat time. Yer grandda didn't make et, sadly. Yer uncle an' I were tossed in prison. For a mont yer ma lobbied to visit us. She was about three or four monts pregnant which yah den. I can't remember. Been so long. Anyway, up until she was seven monts en she visited. Den she left America an' came back 'ere."

"Why?"

"She didn't like America, she refused ta bring a baby ta a prison, she longed for home."

"Oh…"

"Aye, so we waited, got a damn good lawyer who 'ad connections. When we got out de first ting we did was 'ead here. I met yah den when ye weren't quite five."

Joi sat there pondering the truth behind her father's past. Had he really killed all those men? He did make it sound like an awful lot. She looked at him. Her doting, slightly graying father was a murderer? Not possible. No way! The worst pain she'd ever seen him inflict was a smack to a horse or killed some plump lamb for chops. There was no way he had killed human beings. No possible way. "I don't believe you."

Shaking his head he told her to wait. Turning the horse about, he rode off towards the cottage.

She watched him go with a scrutinizing eye. No way had that man killed. No way.

When he returned he had a small folder in his hands. "Look." He handed the folder to his daughter.

Taking the object, Joi opened it. Inside there were newspaper clippings from nearly a quarter century ago. The first one that caught her eye was the oldest. The headline read 'The Saints of South Boston.' Flipping through each clipping she found the truth in his words. Looking up at her beloved father, she asked, "Did zey all deserve et?"

"Dey were all bad men."

"What makes y'any different?"

Murphy shook his head and sighed. She wasn't as understanding as her mother had been. He gave her a weak smile, "We didn't do et fer fame an' fortune. We made a few bucks from the mobsters leavings, but thah wasn't intended. We killed bad men ta rid de world o' deir evil. We never killed innocent people an' never a woman or child."

Joi looked upon her father. How she had always envied the man and loved him with all her heart. Did he deserve it for her not to? Had he really done so wrong? Anyway, the last time it all happened was almost twenty years ago before she was even born. Sighing, she said, "No one 'as ze right ta kill..."

"I know dat. We did what we had ta do."

"But ye did et for a good reason, or at least a decent one."

"We tried."

Joi sighed and looked at him. "I only care 'cause I remember what et wos like before ye came 'round. I remember ze changes zat 'appened wit' everyone. Ye weren't zere an' et wos yer own fuckin' fault."

Murphy's jaw clenched. He, his brother, and his wife all cursed like sailors…but he hated when even the weakest curse came from the pretty mouth of his daughter.

"I only care 'cause ye sought et wos right, but et kept yah from yer family an' yer child." She tightened her grip on the reigns, "I just wish ye 'ad sought et trough (through) more."

"How mad are ye?"

"I'm furious…but I'll get over et."

Murphy gave her a weak smile.

Joi, with the mood swings she had inherited from her mother, suddenly beamed a smile at him, "I'll race ye ta ze 'ouse."

Before Murphy could even answer her challenge he was staring at the rump of his daughter's horse as they raced back to the cottage.

Dismounting, Murphy hugged his daughter close to him and kissed her on the top of the head as she laughed. He murmured into her deep brown hair, "Happy birthday, my darlin' little Sea Monkey."

Joi hugged her dad back and kissed his cheek, "Sank ye, Papa. I love ye."

"I love ye too, my girl."

Smiling up into his face, Joi forgot all about how mad she was and how much she wished he'd been there those first five years. Things would be different if he had been. A small feeling of pride welled up in her chest as she though about it. She was the daughter of one of the prolific Saints of South Boston. She, Joi Zaira MacManus, was the daughter of a man who had killed bad men and made the world just a bit safer. Thinking about it, she wouldn't have it any other way. The Saints were the cause of her very existence. She owed them her very life.

When the two returned to the house that evening, Joi and Murphy walked in on an interesting sight. Yvette was sitting at the table with an open book before her and a young boy sitting beside her. She was helping the boy with his reading, which had never been his strong point. Joi smiled and walked up behind them. Hugging the boy from behind, she kissed his cheek, "Gotcha!"

"Joi! Stop et! Ma es tryin' ta teach meh!"

She laughed and kissed the top of her little brother's head.

Aiden Alain MacManus was almost exactly ten years younger than his big sisters. He stuck his tongue out at her, "Meanie."

She stuck hers right back out at him. Nodding for her mother to leave, she sat down and helped her little brother through the story book.

"Roo-ard?"

"Ree-ward."

"Oh, okay."

Yvette walked over and kissed her husband happily. The couple watched proudly as their daughter helped her little brother with his studies.

Murphy smiled, "Yeah 'e gets et from me."

Yvette snorted, "Of course 'e does! I wos reeding stories like zat when I wos five. As was Joi. Women are just better reeders zen men. Fact."

A smile at Murphy lips. For just about twenty years his beloved French bride had lived in Ireland, but there had been no change to her accent when she spoke English. He told her that he finally told Joi where he had been those first five years.

Yvette was going to ask how it went when suddenly the siblings broke into a heated argument, screaming at each other in Gaelic.

Yvette stepped between them and hollered in French, silencing them both.

The two apologized, one in French, the other in Gaelic.

Murphy stood back and laughed joyously. There was nothing in the world that he loved more than the sights and sounds of his family.

**A/N And so it comes to an end. Yes, hate me for killing Connor, which I will expect. I hope all who have read this have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. **


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